Trident Boy: Finnick Odair
by stygian-apocalypse
Summary: At only 14 years of age, Finnick Odair is reaped to participate in the 65th Hunger Games along with his best friend. Not only does he have 23 other tributes to look out for, he has his own fears and the arena to be aware of. This is Finnick's story from his games to the end of the rebellion.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This will be my first story on this account here. This will be the first book of a series, which you do not need to read in order / all at once. There will be five books:**

**I. Trident Boy [Finnick Odair]  
II. Golden Beauty [Cashmere Delgado]  
III. Reaching Impossibility [Gloss Delgado]  
****IV. Female Warrior [Johanna Mason]  
****V. An Act Of Pretence [Annie Cresta]**

* * *

**_I have to go a_****_nd leave you alone_**  
**_But always know, a_****_lways know_**  
**_Always know that I love you so_**

**_- Goodbye, Avril Lavigne_**

* * *

**I. The Reaping **

If life has taught me anything, it is that fate is inevitable and that everyone has one weak spot within themselves, whether it unleashes an unexpected swarm of tears or blinds the person with rage. This weak spot, however, attaches the victim to born and being raised in one of the middle class regions of District Four, I had grown up being taught that I was born a part of an extremely privileged family.

"You see those District 12 kids? Twigs, I tell you. They starve everyday," Father used to tell me. "And you? Look at all that fish we've hauled in. If you think for a second that you have a bad life, you are not my son."

And that's what I had always thought. Even today.

It's Reaping Day and I know my name will not be pulled out. When my little sister, Rhea, pulls my blankets out from underneath me, I can only groan in response.

"Come on, Finnick!" she exclaims, "Get up! It's Reaping Day!"

Today will be the first reaping she attends as a potential tribute, but I don't allow myself to think that her name will be drawn out. There is only one slip out of thousands that says _Rhea Odair_. The chance is almost impossible. It is only when she tells me what time it is that I hurry. I had woken up only ten minutes before the reaping. _Great. _I had slept in and if I was late, it would not be approved of. Rhea is already dressed in a flowing white dress, which reaches an inch or two past her knees and her bronze hair has been braided back in a sophisticated manner - it is undoubtedly Mother's handiwork.

There is already an outfit laid out for me - a light blue dress shirt with matching black pants and shoes that I think are called boots. I hastily strip and tug on the new outfit, ignoring the creases and folds that form at my touch. Rhea pushes me out of the house a mere two minutes after I brush my teeth and I run my hand through my tousled bronze hair.

This is probably the worst I have ever looked for a Reaping.

"I'm scared," Rhea says, after we have signed in. "What if I'm reaped?"

Her bottom lip quivers and her eyes are dilated with fear. I squeeze her hand gently, in hopes of comforting her and tell her, "Don't be, Rhea. There are thousands of other girls. You won't be chosen."

I don't know if I'm convincing her, or myself. In a place like District Four, we are never short of volunteers. The outside districts call the tributes from District One, Two and Four the Careers, otherwise known as the tributes who have trained illegally for the Games. Due to our considerable wealth, the Capitol favours these three districts, and the Peacekeepers are slack compared to those in areas like District Twelve. I heard that whippings are common there.

"Rhea!"

I look over Rhea's shoulder to find Annie Cresta, standing in a billowing green dress, which I assume is about two sizes too large for her. She waves at us and beckons my little sister over to the twelve year old section. I plant one kiss on her forehead and walk towards the fourteen year old male section.

Venala Thames takes the stage after the mayor's speech. _At least she looks better than last year, _I think to myself. This year, her hair is pin straight and is dyed blonde at the roots and gradually becomes a blue at the tips. Her eyes are green, I think, and her dress isn't as ridiculously puffy as it was last year. She looks decent, for once.

Without further ado, she has inserted her hand into the jar of slips for the girls. Venala fishes her hand around and pulls a slip out.

"Rhea Odair," she announces, her heavy Capitol accent rolling the _r _sound. My head snaps up almost immediately and I feel my neck crack. I, for once, am thankful for my height of five foot nine at the age of fourteen, as I tower over everyone else in my year group, and lock eyes with my sister. She lets out a heart-wrenching sob. It makes me want to scream at a trained girl to volunteer.

"I volunteer!" a familiar voice screams out from the fourteen year old females. A rush of blonde hair lunges forward and doesn't bother with the steps onto the stage. She jumps up and stares down at the crowd, more specifically, me. She gives me a slight nod and I know that nothing will change her mind.

"What's your name, darling?" the Capitolian woman asks, delightfully.

"Maya Cresta."

"Wonderful!" Venala claps her hands, animatedly and rushes to the boys' bowl. "Finnick Odair."

I breathe out a sigh of relief. My name hasn't been called out and I'm safe for yet another year. It is only when the boys in front of me have created a pathway for me, that I realise the Finnick Odair that has been called out is _me_. My legs seem to carry me to the stage at their own accord. I glance at myself on the big screen, plastering a fake smirk on, ignoring the wails emitting from Rhea and Mother. I want to cry.

I barely hear Venala speak as she asks for any volunteers, and Maya and I are forced to shake hands. The applause the district gives should be comforting, but it is just a reminder than I have involuntarily been sentenced to my death, with Maya.

"Give it up for your District Four tributes this year! May the odds ever be in your favour."

I know that the cameras would be cut off now, so I push past Venala and embrace Maya in my arms. Having my sister reaped, only to have my best friend volunteer in her spot and being reaped myself, the odds are definitely not in my favour. "I'm sorry," she murmurs softly.

A Peacekeeper grabs my shoulder and and tears me away from her, escorting me to the Justice Building, the most expensive and fashionable building in the District. The Peacekeeper doesn't spare me a second glance before I'm shoved into an empty white room, with the exception of one couch and he trudges out.

My family is the first group to rush in. Rhea crawls onto my lap and sits there, bawling her eyes out and babbling incomprehensible nonsense. Mother is pale and shaking, and I cannot help but be shocked when I see Father on the verge of tears as well.

"Finnick, you have to come back," Mother says, urgently. They all do.

My father steps forward and speaks in a such a serious tone, even I am intimidated. "Son, you've never trained professionally but remember everything I taught you - tridents and knives. Spears are the same as tridents, only lighter. Train well. Do _not _join the Careers."

I can barely take this all in at once but I simply nod. "Got it."

"I can't believe Rhea would've had to go in as well," Mother sniffs. "Thank the Lord, Maya volunteered but that's just as awful."

This is when I stop feeling numb. My grip around Rhea tightens and I can feel the waterworks forming. It isn't long before I'm crying too, just like Mother.

"Dont," Father scolds, "Don't ever let them see you cry."

The Peacekeeper barges in on us and roughly shoves them. "Time's up."

I don't expect anybody else to visit me for the duration of the next twenty-five minutes, but Annie Cresta runs in, dragging her oversized dress along with her. Her green eyes are wide and innocent, and her eyes are red and puffy.

I stare at her, shocked. "Hi?" I say in what I suppose is in the form of a question.

Despite being best friends with her older sister and her being close friends with my own sister, I have only spoken to her twice - both of which were extremely short and awkward conversations.

Annie cups her elbow and presses her lips together. She doesn't know what to say, and neither do I.

After a few moments of silence, she unties the string of rope around her wrist and gives it to me.

"My sister told me to give this to you." The way Annie speaks makes it seem like she's in a daze. Like she isn't wholly attached to reality. "She told me you like to make knots when you have something on your mind."

I tentatively take the rope from her and wrap it around my own wrist. "Thank you," I say, half-heartedly.

She looks up at me, tears threatening to pour, before she looks back down to her shoes, shyly. "Can you take care of her? I know you're her best friend…"

I nod without a word. I honestly don't know what to say.

"She's my sister," she whispers softly.

"I know," I respond. "I'll do whatever it takes to bring her back home."

This time, she looks up at me with hopeful eyes without breaking her gaze away from me. "Really? Do you mean that?"

"Of course. She'll come back to you, okay?" I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Rhea needs me; so do Mother and Father. But Annie needs Maya. I want to win, but if that is to happen, Maya will have to die, whether it is by my hands or another tribute's.

_No, Finnick. Don't think like that_, I scold myself.

Before I know it, Annie crashes into me, her arms around my waist. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she repeats.

"You're welcome."

Suddenly, she's torn away from me and I am dragged towards the train that is supposed to take me to the Capitol. "Take care of her for me! Please, Finnick!" Annie cries out. I close my eyes and ignore her, this time and board the train.

_Goodbye, District Four._


	2. Chapter 2

**II. **

It surprises me when I am told that Mags is supposed to be my mentor. She's a withered, old seventy year old lady, with greying hair and a wrinkled smile. Her eyes are kind and understanding but her speech is slightly garbled. I have to listen carefully to whatever she says. The other mentor is our latest victor, Shelly. At the age of seventeen, she won four years ago through her astonishing skills of manipulation. No one knows how exactly she was able to do what she did, but it has always been questioned. Being a reaped tribute, she was no ordinary Career. Her mind was her weapon.

Maya and I pick at our lunch. Despite the extravagance of the meals that we are offered, we simply do not have the appetite. Instead of the usual fish and seaweed we are served at home, we have chicken, asparagus and something which Shelly says is mashed potato.

Venala breathes out an exasperated sigh and gives an overdramatic eye roll. "Honestly, tributes these days are so rude. You have such luxury here. Look at this food! Eat it! What poor manners. "

Nobody reacts except for Shelly, who shoots her a glare. "What are you guys good at?" she questions.

"Uh… Fishing?" Maya replies, in a questioned form.

"Weapons wise," Mags mumbles. She grabs a few cubes of sugar from a small plate right by her and pops one in her mouth.

"I can net and use tridents and knives," I say, not in hopes of showing off, but in hopes of life-saving advice.

Maya glances at me and bites her bottom lip, softly. She has never trained; not as a Career and not how I have ever trained unprofessionally. "I… I don't know. I've never trained. I only volunteered because of Rhea."

Shelly raises a thin eyebrow at us and leans back as far as possible in her seat. "Ah, I see. We have a couple here."

Lemonade is suddenly sprayed all over my face as Venala spits her drink out. "A couple?!" she exclaims.

I merely ignore her and wipe the combination of saliva and lemonade off my face. "We're not a couple," I deny. "We're best friends."

"No difference," she waves off. "Since you guys both look untrained here, I'll give you a bit of advice as a non-Career, myself."

For the rest of the day, we either play games or she lectures us, with Mags on the side. I feel irritated that my mentor isn't doing anything for me, considering she has barely uttered a complete sentence for the duration of the day, but I know I can't blame her due to her age.

Maya and I learn about the different aspects of training the other Career districts go through from Shelly. With fourteen victors in total, both alive and dead, District One is yet another one of the favoured district of Panem. They are known for their astounding beauty and because of this aspect, the sexiest and the most handsome ones are trained to flirt well. Several of their victors have won by seducing their fellow tributes, usually from District Two. Despite their brashness and known brutality, they, apparently, are able to feel more than those from District Two.

District Two, on the other hand, are ruthless and harsh, no matter what happens. I'm not surprised though; most of those who don't participate in the Hunger Games, move on with their lives either training or being Peacekeepers. Shelly says that it is exceptionally rare for a Career tribute from the masonry district to feel. Their anger and desire for leadership overpowers any emotion that might be within them, and that is usually what blinds them with rage. When this emotion takes over, their movements are usually sloppy and their brains don't think to do anything other than to slaughter their enemy. They rely on brute strength. I cringe when Shelly gives us examples of the actions of their twelve victors, and most significantly, Lyme and Brutus.

Our own district, however, has a whopping number of thirteen victors, with four of them dead. I don't know whether I should be proud or shocked that we have more victors than District Two does. Shelly tells Maya and I that the Careers in District Four are taught to be smart - at least smarter than District One and Two. Some grow to be deceptive and manipulative like herself, whilst others learn tactics in battle strategies and finding ways to defeat the opponent, in a way that is unknown to the enemy. District Four trainees rely on neither brute strength and beauty wholly. They are all-rounders.

After dinner, we watch the reapings of all twelve districts. The seventeen year old girl from One, Indiana, is undoubtedly going to use her beauty to her advantage and I mentally note that I need to look out for her. Standing at a considerably short height of five foot eight, she has a rather curved figure with hazel eyes and platinum blonde hair. The boy is surprisingly, not a volunteer. He's only sixteen, a young age for a Career tribute, with dirty blonde hair and a smirk. District Two is just as intimidating as usual, with their bulging muscles. By judging their height, I can predict that they will tower over me with a good six inches to their advantage. The District Three tributes are forgettable.

When my face comes up onto the screen, I'm shocked that I have such a blank expression on my face with the exception of my smirk. Maya's expression is almost identical to mine and I have to admit, we do in fact, look fairly intimidating.

Shelly nods in approval, "Good, good. I'm sure you'll scare off the tributes from lesser tributes."

As expected, everyone else is pretty forgettable but I know not to underestimate anyone. When Maya and I are finally let out of Shelly's grasp, we retreat to our rooms without another word. I am welcomed by the warm water that cascades down my body from the shower cap, and I stand there for a long time with my eyes closed. I almost doze off in the shower until I hear a knock.

Hastily, I dry myself and pull on a pair of slacks that had already been laid out on my bed. "What?" I bark, opening the door.

When I see that it's Mags, I regret my actions immediately and apologise. She merely waves me off and invites herself into my room, as I tug on a shirt. We both sit on my bed in a comfortable silence, waiting for the other to speak.

Eventually, she opens up her fist and offers a few sugar cubes. I gladly take one, popping it into my mouth and savour the sugary sweetness that invades my taste buds.

"Never trust anyone in the arena," she says and I'm almost shocked that she can speak an entire sentence. "Except Maya. Listen to everything Shelly and I tell you. It will save your life."

I nod. "Do you… do you think I have a chance, Mags? I mean, look at District One and Two. They're so much stronger than Maya and I."

She gives me a gummy smile. "Of course. They might be stronger but you're smarter. I know it and you have family to go back to."

_Rhea_.

* * *

The next morning when we wake in the Capitol, it is chaotic. Apparently, I have slept in for the second consecutive day and before I can even get my hands on any food, I'm shoved into my room on Level Four by my prep team.

"My, my. Our work is definitely cut out for us this year, don't you think?" a petite lady chirps, once they have stripped me of my clothes.

Being only fourteen, nudity wasn't something I had grown familiar with. I squirmed underneath their gazes. To think that only my family had seen me naked before, I felt uncomfortable in front of these three strangers - all female, might I add.

I raise an eyebrow and ask, "Who are you?"

"I'm Ellina," the same lady introduces herself. Her fluoro yellow hair spikes in any possible direction and her blood red eyes make her look like a demon. "And they are Cartia and Aurora."

Cartia looks somewhat decent, but with her Capitol accent, I can take anything she says seriously. She has natural blonde hair that has been elegantly twisted into a bun and her blue eyes make her seem more like a genuine human. The one physical feature that I find unnatural is her sharp hourglass figure. Her hips jut out to the side and her waist is tiny, despite having such a voluptuous chest. But I guess, the perks of living in the Capitol is that they can make just about anything possible.

Aurora is a sharp contrast to Cartia. She is tall - at least six feet - and has a sickly thin figure. Her elbows and collarbone protrudes out, making it seem like she has lived in District Twelve. Her pin straight hair is an electric blue and her eyes match. Whenever she looks at me, I feel the need to crawl into a shell and never come back out. Her eyes seem to look through my soul and I can't help but think how peculiar the Capitolians really are.

For the next few hours, I endure a torture I have never experienced before. I am prodded with metal objects - tweezers, I think they're called - and all my body hair has been ripped off. Despite having their work cut out for them, Cartia says that I still need some polishing.

"Trust me, Finnick. You only need about three hours. We usually take ten or so when we take care of the outside Districts. No sanitary products there, I tell you," Ellina chirps, while she scrubs my body clean of what is supposedly the famous fish odour from District Four.

My head is then dunked underneath the surface of the water and this time, my hair is being lathered with shampoo and conditioner not just once, but several times. Their nails dig into my scalp and skin, and I want to scream and them to stop but Mags had told me to do everything they order me to do, and to never refuse or protest. I simply decide to not speak as much as possible.

When they are finally done with me, my skin is raw and red from the hot water. My hair is a shining bronze colour. I'm guided to body-length mirror and the girls, even Aurora, gasp. Ellina fans her face with her manicured hand and stares at me head to toe with wide eyes.

"Oh my…" she says, "We've created the most beautiful creature ever."

Ellina faints into the arms of Aurora, who simply rolls her eyes and places the woman on a nearby couch. The room is silent for a while before Cartia speaks up, "It's true… You are a handsome, young man, undoubtedly for someone your age. Very desirable."

I feel blood rushing up to my cheeks when she continues to elaborate and I awkwardly stand there. I notice that it's something I seem to do a lot of now.

I'm saved when the stylist, Tatiana saunters in, carrying a bag. She snaps her fingers and my prep team are out the door within seconds. Bright lime green hair and yellow eyes. _Great. _

"You're not going to dress me anything ridiculous, are you?" I question. I think of the previous District Four outfits which have been worn in the Opening Ceremonies. Some were dressed as mermaids, others dressed as scallops and clams. Their stylists had obviously went overboard with the whole District Four theme.

Tatiana doesn't respond. She only looks over my body a few times, scrutinising me as if every part of me is to be imprinted into her memory. When she opens up the bag in hand, I can only brace myself for the awful costume that is to come.

* * *

I was wrong. The costume wasn't as awful as I had predicted it to be.

Maya and I are standing next to our designated horses talking to Mags and Shelly, waiting for the Opening Ceremonies to begin. Tatiana has dress me in loose pants which reach down halfway between my ankles and knees, but they're tight around my waist and where they end. They are shiny - something I would expect District One to wear. They're an aqua and silver colour. Apart from the pants, I only have a net draped across upper back, leaving barely anything to imagination at the front. I hold a trident in my left hand, and the familiar feel of it brings me back into a state of homesickness but I try and push the thought of home aside.

Maya is beautiful, not that she wasn't before all her transformation today. Her dress glimmers as well, starting off white at the top and gradually becomes the same aqua and silver shade as my own outfit. At the front, the dress ends mid-thigh, and at the rear, it reaches the floor. Her blonde hair is even wavier than it was before and she looks like a model.

"Smile and wave!" Shelly tells us, breaking me out of my trance and I'm forced to hop onto the carriage.

Districts One are nude, I think, with jewels that have been stuck onto them, covering their most prized assets. District Two are dressed in blood red outfits and I can't help but think how well it suits them, especially with their unstoppable bloodlust. District Three's tributes cower in their carriages, with silver panels as headpieces. Unusual.

"Come on out, District Four!" Caesar announces.

Maya and I are met with the deafening applause and cheers of the audience. For a moment, we are gaping in awe at our surroundings but when we take note of our expressions on the big screen, we instantly smile and wave at the screaming men and women. I wrap an arm around Maya's waist, bringing her closer to me and allow a genuine grin to take place on my face. My other hand grips onto the trident tightly.

"They love us!" Maya shouts at me.

"I know!"

We blow kisses and wink at the roaring crowd and it is now, that we notice that we outfits make us look like waves, or we're riding waves. It is astounding, really.

District Four, this year, is the most attention-grabbing District. Maya grabs the attention of both genders, and I notice that women fawn all over me, despite being yards away from me. It is just this once that I finally realise that maybe, the odds may be indeed in our favour, even if it's for a little while.


	3. Chapter 3

**III. Training **

When Maya and I arrive at the training centre the next morning, it turns out that we are the last ones to arrive. We join the semi-circle of tributes around Atala, one of the trainers, and she explains to us the rules and gives us advice. I ignore her. I want to scope out my competition, and see who will be my potential allies and enemies.

Indiana and Brock, the boy from Two are sneering at the rest of the tributes and shooting them glares. They are undoubtedly the most vicious of the tributes this year. Offscreen, the girl from District Two doesn't look like much. If anything, she looks like a kid with a bit of muscle here and there. She's at least a few inches shorter than myself and Maya, and I can easily see myself taking on her without much difficulty. She wouldn't be a difficult kill.

_No, Finnick_, I scold myself, _Don't think about killing. _I'm almost disgusted with myself.

Instinctively, I find myself inching towards Maya, not due to fear, but because of the lingering gaze she receives from District One's male tribute. Carter is his name, I think. The way he smirks at her disturbs me; it's almost like he's proud of the fact that he's undressing my best friend mentally and there is nothing undignified with that. I'm thankful when Atala dismisses us to do whatever we want and I instantly drag Maya to the fire station.

"What was that for?" she whines, rubbing the part of her arm where I had gripped her.

"Sorry," I mutter, "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. Why?"

"Did you not see Carter looking like he want to rip your clothes off?"

She sighs softly. "Yeah, I saw but there's not much we can do about it. If we do, we'll be at the top of their kill list."

I don't say anything because I know it's true. Building a fire is easy. Back in District Four, Maya and I would pretend to go out camping and stay at the beach by ourselves, enjoying the warmth of the sun during the daylight and lit fires at night. We cooked fish and shared stories over and over again. It never grew old. My mood instantaneously drops when I realise that this won't ever happen again. Either one or neither of us come out of this alive, and even if one of us survive, it will never be the same. I know it.

The tributes from District Seven and Nine make small talk with use, but the conversations are mostly awkward and die down after a few minutes. Mags and Shelly had told us to not join the Careers for the sixth time since we've arrived in the Capitol, and to even out the time we spend at both survival and weaponry stations. We don't argue with them, knowing that they are correct. Many tributes in the past have accidentally mistaken inedible plants for another and the result is an undignified death for their District.

The next few hours consist of more survival training - netting, which is already one of our specialities, edible plants, climbing, and all sorts of other. After lunch, we decide to try weaponry. Shelly had demanded that I teach Maya a few moves with the knife and spear as it could come in handy in the arena. There has already been an unspoken, yet certain agreement that we will stick by each other's side until the very end. The trainer at the spears station doesn't bother talking to us, probably thinking that we already have a sufficient amount of knowledge on weapons, coming from a Career District.

Weighing the spear in my hand, I realise that it's lighter than I had expected - at least five times lighter than my trident back home. I move into the stance I use whenever I spear fish with my trident and I throw at the target twenty yards away from me. The weapon punctures the shoulder of the dummy and I curse, under my breath. The Careers simply laugh, making it evident that this year, District Four is not welcome in their alliance, not that it even bothered us.

"I want to try," Maya says. She imitates my previous stance, aims and throws. Bulls eye.

I blink, attempting to process what she had just done and before I can say anything, she's throwing another spear and it hits the heart of a dummy at least thirty yards away. Even the trainer is shocked. She continues on relentlessly, hitting target after target in the deadliest areas of the bodies. With each throw, she grunts out with the effort and strength she needs puts in, but she's not as loud as I've heard Indiana be. Everyone stops to watch - every Gamemaker, every trainer and every tribute is watching the girl throwing the spears, in astonishment. Maya only misses once and it's the dummy that's the furthest away from us, but it doesn't matter. I'm mesmerised by her skill - her hidden talent - and I watch her, as if in a trance, until there are no more spears.

"Way to go. I think we just found your talent," I murmur with a smile.

She grins back at me, panting and brushes her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes. Even sweating, she is a beauty. "Well, that was fun."

"I bet it was." I give her a wink and we're off to the knives station.

Maya's a fast learner. I can easily say that, but her initial ability - or lack of ability - with the knife was horrible. It almost made me cringe when she threw a dagger, only to have it land ten yards to the right of the dummy and almost chopping off one of the trainers' ears. Despite multiple examples and lessons from both myself and the designated trainer, she understands the concept of using a throwing knife, but not to much success. We end up laughing it off and she watches me for a while before we head to the other stations.

She does considerably well with a sword, while I cannot be bothered at all to learn. Or more like, I found the perfect station for me. It's hidden but the gleam of a brand new weapon lures me and within seconds, I have an all-too-familiar trident back in my hands and I'm whacking and throwing at the dummies with all my might. Just like Maya had done with the spears.

I'm back at home. Father is teaching me the different skills on manoeuvring the trident around, looking for the best possible way out of the dummy in front of me. He scolds me when I hesitate for the slightest moment to scratch my itching nose. "_It's not my fault there's so much dust,"_ I say, and he scolds me again for being distracted. He tells me to imagine that the trident is a part of my arm and I need to utilise it the way in a way where it feels the most natural. _"The trident is a part of you, Finnick," he says, "Don't you ever forget that." _

I'm back on our fishing boat and I'm spearing at the fish in the ocean with my trident. There are mere vulnerable creatures and I'm the human at the top of the food chain. I'm the predator and they are the enemies. I stab a few times, at the shark that threatens to swim within a few metres of our boat and I watch as the water bubbles up with a pink foam - _blood _- and it sinks back into the water, defeated.

These dummies are sharks and to win, I must kill them. I'm not killing dummies. I'm killing _sharks._

When I'm done, I am drenched with sweat. My bronze hair is matted down but the adrenaline is still rushing through my veins. The eight dummies aren't even dummies anymore. They are either holy or torn up into shreds from the twisting and tugging of the trident. Tatters lie all over the area that surrounds me and it's deathly silent for a few moments. I merely stare at the tributes before me who gape with wide eyes and open jaws.

"Well, what are you looking at?" I snap, "There's nothing here."

Only the Careers linger back. "Don't bother," Maya says, "We're not joining."

It isn't surprising that they're angered - furious, more like - but it doesn't bother us. We just ignore them as if they don't exist and most unusually, laugh at how easily riled up they are.

* * *

"Finnick Odair."

I stand up, stiffly with my head held up high. _I'm not afraid_.

At least, I think I'm not.

"Good luck," Maya whispers before I enter the training room.

Without the trainers and tributes, it looks much more spacious and intimidating than it usually did. My palms being to sweat and my heart beats erratically. "I'm Finnick Odair from District Four."

I grab a handful of knives, testing the weight of each one by tossing it in the air and catching it by the handle without much effort. And then, I throw. I hit bulls eye eight out of nine throws.

I don't particularly do well with spears. I hit the arm and leg but nowhere fatal enough to do much damage so I end up using the trident, despite knowing that it won't be provided in the arena.

A half hour later, Maya, the stylists, Venala, Mags, Shelly and I are gathered in the living room of our floor, watching the scores. Apparently, Maya had shown off her spear throwing and sword fighting, which will undoubtedly give her a brilliant score. Carter and Indiana receive a ten and nine, respectively. The female tribute from District Two receives an average score of eight and Brock receives a nine. District Three both get fives and when it's our turn, I take it a breath.

"Finnick Odair… A ten!" Caeser Flickerman announces. I close my eyes for a brief second and breathe out again. Mags rubs my arm, soothingly and gives me an encouraging smile, as does everyone else.

"Maya Cresta…" Caeser cocks a salmon pink eyebrow and exclaims, "Eleven!"

The girl stares at the screen unbelievingly and blinks. "We did it!" she screams and tackles me into a hug. I laugh and enjoy her embrace, wrapping my arms around her waist. Venala, the mentors and the stylists shower us with compliments and applause.

"What you did must have been awesome!" I exclaim.

She nods, modestly and says, "Not really. I just showed what I learnt and what you taught me."

When I sleep that night, I thrash around in my bed, kicking and screaming, according to Mags. I see myself killing my own best friend in cold blood. I watch her beg for me to spare her life and I watch myself forcing her to suffer. I end up waking up in cold sweat with tears pouring down my cheeks when I finally come to the realisation that Maya will be one of the sharks in the arena.

* * *

**A/N: Hey! I don't really have much to say here except to say thank you for the great reviews :) Also, updates will be sporadic. There won't be a specific day I update everyday or anything. I usually have things popping up, so I apologise in advance for any late/slow updates in the future. I will, however, try to make them a consistent length each time. This isn't a very good chapter but I hope that it's alright :) **


	4. Chapter 4

**IV. Interviews & Bloodbath **

_Be charming, Finnick. Make them love you. _

Mags' words echo around in my head as I wait anxiously for my interview. I rub my palms together and fidget with the hem of my suit. Tatiana has decided to dress me in an unbuttoned sea green blazer, with a completely transparent white dress shirt, along with some black dress pants and formal shoes. I will supposedly be 'eye candy' to the women of the Capitol. Carter approaches the interview using the funny angle, while Indiana is seductive, or as I like to call, slutty. Both tributes from District Two use the ruthless angle. They are both too arrogant for their own good and repeat how they would bring pride to their district over and over throughout their interview. "Pathetic," I hear Maya mumble. The male tribute of District Three approaches the cunning angle, which surprisingly suits him rather well, and the female barely grabs the attention of the audience with her innocence.

I let out a deep breath when my name is heard over the loudspeaker and I brush down my suit. "Good luck," Maya says.

"You too," I grin at her.

It is overwhelming when I step out onto the stage. The crowd erupts into an uproarious cheer. Women shriek my name, blowing kisses and some even leap forward. It's deafening; I don't think District One or Two have received this much attention. I return their gestures, grinning and winking. A few surprisingly faint, though I never winked at one particular woman; just at the crowd.

"Wow… Finnick Odair," Caesar greets. "What a pleasure to officially meet you!"

I take a seat and say, "Not as much of a pleasure as it is for me to meet you. I must say pink really is your colour."

_Lies. All lies. _

I'm tempted to say, "You look horrible," because it's true in my eyes. Caesar Flickerman looks utterly ridiculous, gloriously sitting there, with his perfectly dyed and stylised pink hair.

He laughs his infamous laugh and replies, "Thank you, thank you. Don't you look dashing, Finnick? All the women back in District Four must love you."

Crossing my arms, I lean back and smirk. "Nah, I don't think I caught much attention."

"Well we have plenty of women, right everyone?"

The audience screams again - mostly women, but several men also cheer along. "Marry me, Finnick!" an orange woman at the front shrieks.

I realise that Caesar helps us when we're running out of things to say, and I'm starting to worry because I'm only thirty seconds into my interview and I'm already running out of things to say. "So what do you like most about the Capitol?"

I take a moment to think. "The food, definitely. I mean, I haven't even heard of most of the stuff they gave us on the train. It's shocking, really… and of course, there's the women."

One suggestive wink and the women are screaming again.

"I love you, Finnick!"

"You're beautiful!"

"Finnick!"

"Ah yes," Caesar nods, grinning. "You're probably the golden boy, if I do say so myself. You seem to have caught quite the attention here - a pretty large fanbase."

I smirk, lazily. _Play charming, Finnick. _

"Not as much as they have caught my attention. I must say, Caesar, the women here are absolutely gorgeous."

This time, it takes a while to calm the women in the crowd down and I'm grateful, for this uses up more of my interview time. I don't have to say as much. "Now, Finnick," Caesar leans in towards me, giving me the urge to lean back as he does. "I… Well, most likely, the whole of Panem have come to realise how close you and Maya Cresta are. Care to explain?"

He looks genuinely intrigued, as do the audience. Was it that obvious?

"We're best friends," I say.

Caesar nods, giving me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry about that. What do you think will happen when it comes down to you two?"

"Well, hopefully that won't happen. I cannot imagine either one of us ending the other's life. But… she volunteered for my own sister and I'm her debt now. I'll make sure that she comes out alive and if not, then I will."

_Stay tough. Don't cry. Don't look weak. _

I'm saved by the timer when it suddenly rings. "Well, I guess our time is up." He grabs my hand and we both stand up, as he shouts, "Give it up for Finnick Odair, District Four!"

The audience erupts into roars and I sit down next to the girl from Three. I can sense Carter's glare at me; he glares because we both went for charming but I received more attention. I give him a smug smirk and watch as Maya walks out onto stage.

With a floor length dress, she looks absolutely dazzling and I'm sure it's not just in my eyes that she is beautiful. Her dress is a pure white, symbolising innocence, I assume, with an aqua sash and v-neck. Silver bangles and bracelets adorn her left arm from the wrist to the elbow and three jewels have been glued onto her cheek under each eye.

"Don't you look stunning, Maya?" Caesar compliments.

"Thank you, Caesar," Maya smiles, "You look very handsome yourself."

The interviewer himself, blushes. I think he forces himself to blush. After so many years of having this job, I'm sure he's used to the many compliments he receives.

"Your friend here, Finnick, has said that you two are best friends. Anything to add?"

"Well, Caesar, he's already said what there is to be said. What else is there? It would be very unfortunate, however, if neither of us made it out…" she sympathises and wipes a fake tear away. _That's my best friend_, I think. Playing with the audience's emotions is incredibly smart, yet hard to pull off. Maya's bottom lip trembles as she continues on, "And if only one of us make it out alive, it's just as unfortunate. We're like twins, you see. We can't live without each other."

Both men and women in the crowd burst into tears. A few coo and whimper over the sob story, which is in fact true and I'm certain that there are also the few who enjoy this for more drama.

Caesar smiles sadly at the pair of us. "I'm sure we'll miss whoever doesn't make it… Onto a different matter, you received the highest score, an 11! Now how did you get that?"

She giggles. She giggles the girliest giggle I have ever heard that has come from her. I feel a bitter disgust towards Venala. I know without a doubt that she has changed Maya, even if it is just an act. Maya _never _giggles.

"Well, Caesar, if I said anything, it wouldn't be a secret now, would it? Besides, I barely even did anything."

Her interviewing time is up and she leaves to sit next to me. "Good job," we say to each other and we hold onto each other's hands, as an act of comfort, throughout the rest of the interviews.

The girl from District Nine makes quite an impression, most likely leaving her at the top of the Careers kills list, right after Maya and myself. Diedre is her name, I think. She rages about how the Careers won't win this year. She rambles about how the Careers will be too stuck up, obnoxious and arrogant and how she will win. Diedre has fire in her eyes. Fierce, determined and brave, but untrustworthy. Caesar actually glances around, nervously, probably never having to deal with someone with such attitude from a lower District.

District Eleven's boy also creates a sob story. He has left behind three younger sisters and two brothers. He lives in poverty and they have no parents. He is the sole protector of his family. My heart goes out to him and the rest of his family. I can't imagine a world where Rhea lives alone without our parents or myself as support.

* * *

I stare up at the ceiling blankly. I have stripped down to just my undergarments and I lay in bed, unable to sleep. One part of me thinks that I'm too afraid of the upcoming nightmares but the other is that I just can't. It's just that my body won't let me.

"Finnick?" I hear Maya's voice through the door.

"Come in."

The door opens then shuts behind her, and she crawls into bed next to me. If this was any other girl, I'd be overwhelmingly uncomfortable right now but Maya and I have done this since we were kids. We helped each other whenever we had nightmares. Since her mother was deceased, her father was constantly at work and barely at home, leaving the house to Maya and Annie, who couldn't help at such a young age. It was always the two of us.

We simply lay next to each other, eyes closed and enjoying each other's presence.

"You know… Only one of us can come out," she says.

"I know," I reply. Over the past few days, I have come to realise that if died in the Games, my parents and Rhea would be able to cope. If Maya were to be crowned victor, her winning's cash would be more than enough for her and Annie. Maya could look after Rhea if my parents weren't available. It would be no problem. If Maya wasn't victor, Annie would have no constant family around. Despite barely knowing her, I still care for her, especially since she's only twelve.

"You're going to win," I declare. "We'll protect each other as much as we can in the arena and if it comes down to the two of us, you're getting out. Annie needs you more than my family need me."

"No," she denies, shaking her head fiercely. "I won't let that happen."

I turn onto my side so we're facing each other. "Maya, you're the only family Annie has left. Rhea has my parents."

We both know she can't argue to this but she says, "How about one of us have to win, and the winner needs to look after the other's family."

"Of course."

"Promise me?"

"I promise."

"Me too."

* * *

Running.

That's what Tatiana assumed there would be a lot of, the moment she saw the arena outfits. "I presume there will be plenty of mud, hence the boots, and mud leads to water. Don't forget that. It doesn't give much about the temperature… The jacket's fairly thin and not incredibly thin for it to be desert hot. Maybe something mild. It's pretty vague this year. Sorry Finnick," she says, apologetically.

"It's fine," I smile, "You've given me plenty of advice and information.

"Two minutes."

Tatiana adjusts the flimsy piece of rope Annie gave me around my wrist and envelops me in a hug. I hug back, knowing this will be the last human contact before I enter the arena and face my imminent death. "I believe in you, Finnick. Both you and Maya. You have been one of the most amazing and genuine tributes I've had."

She pulls back and smiles at me, sadly. "Remember everything Mags and I taught you."

I nod, stiffly. "Thank you."

I step onto the platform just before it starts to rise. I catch Tatiana mouth, "Good luck" to me and I'm sudden rush of humid air whips past me.

"Ladies and gentleman, let the 65th Hunger Games begin!"

* * *

**A/N: Any guesses on what the arena will be? :) I hope this chapter was okay. It's not my best, but I feel somewhat neutral with it. **

**As a side question, should I start the story [Golden Beauty] about Cashmere in the 66th Hunger Games? If I do start it, it's likely that it will contain spoilers for upcoming events in Finnick's story. So just of curiosity, I'd like to know how many people would want me to start it now or later. **

**Please review your thoughts on this chapter and provide a response to the question above :) **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: After a bit of more in-depth research, I found out that Cashmere and Gloss won the 63rd and 64th Games rather than 66th and 67th - turns out Gloss won before Cashmere, opposed to what most people believe. AND that Johanna won the 71st not the 68th/69th, so this story [Finnick's] won't change much. Originally it was supposed to be Finnick [65th], Cashmere [66th], Gloss [67th], OC [68th], Johanna [69th] and Annie [70th], so now I kind of have to swap it around. Now it's: **

**I. Chasing Impossibility [Gloss Delgado] - 63rd Games  
II. Golden Beauty [Cashmere Delgado] - 64th Games  
III. Trident Boy [Finnick Odair] - 65th Games  
IV. An Act Of Pretence [Annie Cresta] - 70th Games  
V. Female Warrior [Johanna Mason] - 71st Games**

**This is the third book, so I'll start on Gloss' story soon.**

* * *

**_You'll change inside when you realise_**

**_The world comes to life and everything's bright._**

**_From beginning to end when you have a friend,_**

**_By your side that helps you to find the beauty you are,_**

**_When you open your heart and believe in the gift of a friend._**

**_- Gift of a Friend, Demi Lovato_**

* * *

**V. Let The Games Begin! **

Falling.

I can feel myself falling.

I hear the rush of the wind swish past and I realise I'm not falling. My pedestal clicks in and it takes a large amount of effort to maintain my balance. A new rush of humid air whips by and I almost lose my footing. _No, Finnick, don't fall off. _

We are surrounded by swampland. About ten metres from the ring of tributes, the rainforest terrain starts. Half of it is rocky and steep, but a rainforest nonetheless. Water will be easy to find. The golden Cornucopia stands in front of us, right in the centre. The sun's reflection glares at me and I have to squint to be able to see it, but fortunately, I'm right in front of the mouth.

_Thirty seconds._

I'm between the male from District Twelve and the female from Two, whose name I still haven't learnt. Not that I even need to anymore. She glares at me in hopes of intimidating me, but I merely smirk and wink at her. I scan the circle of tributes and spot Maya, stuck between the pair from One. Well, shit. I catch her gaze and mime the action of pushing someone over, then nod towards the steeper part of the terrain. She nods and faces the Cornucopia with a determined expression.

_Fifteen seconds. _

We can do this. We are from District Four. Maya and I are used to wading and running in dirty water. This shouldn't be much of a difference. If anything, we should be at more of an advantage since other districts have only rainfall as water.

_Three seconds. _

_What the fuck do I do? _I think.

_Two seconds. _

An explosion. A billow of smoke is all that remains of the measly girl from District Ten, who had only been two pedestals to my right.

_One second._

Everyone stares in utter shock, and the gong rings, bringing everyone out of their daze.

I step into the swamp, grimacing at how thick the mud is. It clings to my trousers but I venture on further. The boy from Twelve faceplants the moment he steps off - or rather, slips off. I don't run for the Cornucopia. I shove District Two's female tribute over while she's distracted with her surroundings. She screams at me, outrageously. Maya does the same with the other Careers.

I notice that the swampy water is deeper at the Cornucopia, which proves to be a disadvantage to shorter tributes as it is already past my height. I end up treading water and swimming a few metres. By the time I reach the Cornucopia, the mud and water has slowed me down a lot, yet I'm the only one there.

"Finnick!"

Maya, who is currently the closest to the Cornucopia aside from me, stands halfway between the pedestals and the Cornucopia. _Best to hog the supplies_, I think to myself. I grab not one, but four backpacks and throw them, one by one, at Maya who catches them with ease. She ends up sprinting towards the steep region, carrying three backpacks on her back and carrying the other.

"District Four!" Carter booms, as he trudges through the muddy water. "Dead! You're not getting out of this, Pretty Boy. "

Ignoring him, I think, _knive__s. Where are they? _

Rummaging through the Cornucopia, I finally find a belt of knives of all sorts and clasp it around the waistband of my pants. I hook a few other knives into the interior of my jacket, hastily and grab a few spears, along with a hefty sword.

_Run! _My conscience screams at me to run as fast as I can. I notice tributes missing; they've drowned, undoubtedly, or they have been strangled to death by the Careers, who are only a few meters away from the Cornucopia. The bloodbath will be starting soon so I don't bother with anyone in my way. Despite the weighty weapons I'm carrying, I manage to swim and sprint through the shallowest parts of the swamp and run in the direction where Maya had headed.

I don't even think of stopping when Maya jumps down from a nearby tree and joins me. "Come on!" she says as she sprints past me.

The excessive amounts of foliage and the moist ground makes it harder to maintain a steady pace whilst running. After what seems like ages, we stop in front of a stream.

"Should we go across?" I ask.

"I don't know…" Maya says, uncertainly. "Do you think there are piranhas or fish mutts?"

Before I can reply, she suggest, "How about we just go across? They wouldn't unleash mutts so early. The bloodbath is probably still going on so we should go across before it's too late."

The stream turns out to be as deep as an ocean should be. We use this chance to wash the grime off us. Even though our clothes are soaking wet by the time we're out, we're free of excessive mud.

I think we run for around ten minutes or so. We stumble every now and then, before we find a nice area to camp out. An isolated cave that has been enclosed on all sides, except the entrance, which is just big enough to squeeze me through. We're situated by a lake, giving us easy access to water and hopefully, it's far enough from the other tributes. It's hot and humid; hotter than it has ever been in District Four. I'm not completely sure whether the moisture on our skin is from the water in the lake or from sweating.

The repeating sound of the canon causes me to jump slightly in my spot. I count eleven.

"Eleven tributes down already. We are lucky this year," Maya murmurs softly and I nod. "Let's look at what we have."

All four packs are identical. We have a considerably abundant supply - matches, rope, iodine enough to last a month, six packets of dried beef, four empty flasks for water, four sleeping bags and night vision glasses. Add seven spears, a sword and two dozen knifes.

"We're loaded," I say.

"Yeah…"

It's silent for a while. We prepare the sleeping bags out for tonight and we sit, listening to the rush of water and the birds chirp. _If only this could last forever_.

By the end of the day, no more cannons sound. The anthem sounds and we gaze up at the holography that appears at the ceiling of our cave.

The girl from Two, the girl from Three, both from Five, the boy from Six, the girls from Eight, Nine and Ten, both tributes from Eleven and the boy from Twelve.

"What happened to Alora?" Maya questions me, with a shocked expression.

"Alora?" I repeat.

"District Two."

_Oh_. "Um… I don't know," I reply. "I pushed her into the swamp. Maybe she drowned in the deep end? Or the Careers finished her off. Who knows?"

She nods slightly and suggests that we should net together a flap for the cave's opening, so it's not as obvious to other tributes. We make knots with a bit of the rope provided, as well as leaves, twigs, sticks and anything else we find along the forest floor. We roll it around in mud for camouflage and tie it onto a sturdy rock nearby. It blocks the only source of natural sunlight but we light a fire to make up for it.

Within minutes, the temperature drops drastically. _Oh, no_. In District Four, we experience constant temperatures, with the rare hurricanes and torrential rainfalls. Maya and I are sent out to sea often, to catch fish, but even then it's hot but windy at the same time. Being cold is rare for us.

Our teeth chatter and goosebumps form all over our arms and legs. "I-it's freezing," Maya stutters out. The wind outside roars in our ears.

A _clink_ catches our attention. _A parachute! _Mags and Shelley had sent us warm, thick blankets.

"Thank you" I manage to say through the constant chattering of my teeth and move the weapons and sleeping bags to the other side of the fire, towards the far end of our cave. "Come here." I drag a log over by the fireplace and sit on it with Maya, wrapping the blankets around us. I place my arm around her, rubbing her arm softly and our shivers come to an end soon.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

She nods. "Yeah. I'm fine… You should sleep. I'll take first watch," she offers.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Go to sleep."

I get up and kiss her forehead. "Wake me up in a few hours."

The moment my head hits the ground, I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, it's broad daylight. _Day two of the Hunger Games. _The sun seeps in through the gaps of the net we've created and I notice Maya eating some of the dried beef. The gales have stopped during the night, I assume. "Why didn't you wake me up?" I accused.

"I uh…" the ghost of a smile appears at the corner of her lips as she says, "I fell asleep. Sorry."

I laugh, good-naturedly and shake my head. I should've expected that.

"Let's go out for a walk!" she exclaims. "We can catch some actual food instead of this… crap." Her nose wrinkles at the sight of the dried beef and her hand reaches up to her hair band. She pulls it out and shakes her head, letting her hair flow down past her shoulders. "I never liked tying my hair up," she mutters.

Grabbing a spear and her sword, she takes my hand and we take a stroll along the bank of the lake. Two cannons go off and we notice that the hovercrafts pick up the bodies from what we assume to be the other side of the arena. Maya and I end up having fun in the lake, shoving each other and splashing water in each other's face. Occasionally, we race each other. We swim different strokes each time and catch a few decent sized fish with Maya's spear. It's almost like we're home again. _Almost_.

We spend a few hours goofing around, making the most of our time before we head back to our cave, even though it's only a little past noon. We strip down to our undergarments and hang our sodden clothes on a makeshift clothing line, made of rope. Maya laughs, "The audience will love this. I mean, Finnick Odair half naked? They're digging this."

"Oh, really, huh? What about you? Any guy would love to see you like this," I state.

She bats her eyelids in an almost ridiculous manner, that makes me laugh along with her. "I didn't know you felt that way about me, Odair," she teases.

I wriggle my eyebrows at her and wink, jokingly. Hopefully, the Capitol loves our banter. We cook the fish with the fire and eat them for lunch, barely giving any thought in preserving them. We redress and sit in front of the entrance, basking in the sunlight and keeping watch.

We make casual small talk. We try to avoid the topic of home and we're so caught up in our conversation, we almost don't realise that we are in the arena. The silhouette of a human sized figure appears in front of me and I pivot around, finding myself face to face with the boy from Three. We stare at each other for a moment before he leaps off the rock.

I hear a grunt from nearby and I turn my head around to find Maya engaged in a fight with the boy from Eight who waves a mace around. This moment's distraction is enough for the boy from Three to sock me in the jaw, and it's surprisingly strong. I yell out a shout of pain as I bite my tongue in the process. Spitting out blood, I wrestle the boy and notice he wields a sickle.

He doesn't have much on me. He's taller but he's skinny. I manage to pin him down to the ground for a few seconds but he wriggles constantly, flailing the weapon around carelessly and I'm forced to release my grip on him. Kicking me in the back of the knees, he swings the sickle around, showing his lack of ability to use it. I dodge a few blows but I'm too slow for the sixth time he swings it. It slices my forearm and I grunt.

The boy grins at me, almost as if he's the devil. The cannon booms and my heart pounds rapidly. _Maya! _She stands up, shakily and grimaces at the dead body in front of her. District Eight's boy has a spear embedded right in his heart. The boy from Three pales and starts to run away from us a little too late. I pull out a dagger from my belt with my good arm, aim and throw. It lands right where I aimed for - the small of his back. His arms flail around, wildly and he gasps in shock and pain. Out of pity, I throw another at his neck and the cannon booms instantly.

_I'm a murderer_.

* * *

For the next few hours, we stay in hiding, taking care of ourselves. Maya had ended up with a twisted ankle, which she was used to, so that was a relief to know. We cleaned up my cut and applied the ice Mags had sent, to the bruise on my jaw. "Not much of a pretty boy now, Finnick?" Maya had teased me.

When the dead tributes are shown at night, I'm surprised to see Brock there. I had thought he would last longer. District Two is out of the Games early this year. I look away in guilt when the boy from Three appears.

"It was either you or him," Maya says, rubbing my back softly. "Don't feel bad."

The girl from Seven pops up next. She barely looks twelve, even when the picture is a close up shot of her face. She disappears within seconds and is replaced by the boy from Eight, who Maya killed.

She looks up, blankly. She shows no emotion and I'm jealous. I envy how mentally strong she is.

We skip dinner; neither of us have any appetite tonight so we decide to sleep.

"I'll take first watch," I offer.

Maya shakes her head and declines, "No. You know I can't sleep early. You go ahead. I won't fall asleep again, I promise."

I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat. "I can't," I say. "Whenever I close my eyes, I see _him_." My voice cracks while I speak and I force my unshed tears to not show.

"Same," Maya replies.

We are murderers now. We entered the arena just yesterday and our innocence has been taken away from us. The boys we killed couldn't have been much older than us. They were children, just like us, yet we still killed them anyway. The feeling of guilt is inevitable now.

"We did it to defend ourselves, Finn," she says, rationally, just like she always does. "We did it for ourselves. They were the ones who attacked us."

"I know… but they… I…" I can't say anymore because I don't _know _what to say anymore.

"Come here," she gestures for me to lay down and rest my head on her lap, and I do exactly that.

Maya runs her delicate hand through my hair and starts to sing.

_"Sometimes you think you'll be fine by yourself,_

_'cause a dream is a wish that you make all alone. _

_It's easy to feel like you don't need help, _

_But it's harder to walk on your own." _

I close my eyes and smile. _The song Mother sang to us every night. _I know the lyrics all too well.

_"You'll change inside when you realise _

_The world comes to life and everything's bright._

_From beginning to end when you have a friend,_

_By your side that helps you to find the beauty you are,_

_When you open your heart and believe in the gift of a friend."_

Maya's voice is beautiful when she sings, and she says I sound nice too, when I sing. But I don't believe her; I believe I sound like a cat screeching. We usually sing this to each other whenever one of us struggles and whenever we have a nightmare. It would be our comfort. The boy from Three is erased from my mind and I see Maya, Rhea, Annie and I on our own little boat, a few months ago, joking around like we had the perfect lives.

If only we were back in District Four.

* * *

**A/N: I do not own the song :) It's _Gift of a Friend _by Demi Lovato. Please review your thoughts on this chapter; constructive criticism is always appreciated! :) Don't be a ghost reader; reviews really do encourage me into writing more! **

**As a side note, I'll be starting _"The Victors of Panem"_. It'll be a profile of every single victor of the Hunger Games, so keep an eye on that as well! :) _  
_**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you to MsMKT86 and HungerGamesOwl for reviewing! :) **

**You guys should check out _The Victors of Panem_! It's up on my profile already!**

* * *

_**I won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart**_  
_**And no one will desert you**_  
_**Just try to never grow up, never grow up**_

_**- Never Grow Up, Taylor Swift**_

* * *

**VI. **

I despise the Games. I always have but now, this hatred has gone to such an extent that I want to scream and rip my hair out. There have been several previous Hunger Games with drastic weather changes. It was bad, yes, people died of intense and incurable fevers, but _this _was torture.

Well, I should have expected that. The first night was freezing as hell and if it weren't for the sponsors, I'm sure we would have gotten frostbite. The second night on the other hand, was incredibly hot. It wasn't just District Four's usual thirty-something degrees Celsius weather. It was an overwhelming forty-something to fifty-something degrees. Even in our skimpy undergarments, Maya and I were drenched with sweat.

Now, it's the afternoon of the third day. Four o'clock or something like that, I think. We left out cozy cave, because we have had too many close encounters that we _just _manage to slip away from. I guess it's a great hiding place for everyone. We've been walking around for hours looking for anything remotely interesting, whilst carrying all our extra baggage around, but to no avail. My patience is running thin and with Maya's huffs of frustration, I'm almost certain she's just as impatient as I am.

It has nothing to do with the fact that nobody's dying; or maybe it is. It's not that we _want _people dying, unlike District One this year; we want to go home.

If I could, I would have frozen time before the Reaping, so Maya, Rhea, Annie and I would be able to keep our innocence. So that Rhea and Annie wouldn't have to grow up, so that they would feel _loved_. As pathetic as it sounds, I don't have any other friends. Maybe Ryan, the boy who sits next to me in maths class could be classified as my acquaintance. But other than that, it's just the girls who I hang out with and I honestly don't mind.

"Holy mother of God!"

Maya's screaming pulls me out of my thoughts as she clumsily stumbles over her own feet and latches her hand on my own. "Come on, Finnick!"

I only just notice where she's looking at - the ground. I look down in horror at the vines that slither around us, coming in closer and closer towards us, threatening to wrap around our legs and make their way to the rest of our bodies to suffocate us. They must be double the size of my bicep - if not, larger.

We have no choice but to run. I lead the way, dragging Maya behind me and scream, "Ditch a pack!" Now we only carry one backpack each, but that's not our main issue right now. I take the sword from Maya, allowing her to carry all her spears along with her pack. The vines are gaining on us now and I know it's only a matter before we have to hack away at the vines to defend ourselves.

I contemplate scaling up a tree but decide against it. With the supplies we have, we'll end up losing them and these vines are obviously designed to push the tributes towards each other. There's no point in doing so.

An ear-piercing shriek erupts from behind us and we take the risk to stop and look. It's the girl from Twelve and the vines have stopped coming for Maya and I. She looks even worse than she did during training, thinner, if that's even possible. We can only watch in horror as the vines eagerly entangle themselves around the tiny girl, trapping her against a large tree. One thick vine snakes across her throat, successfully cutting off her air supply. The cracking of her bones make me wince and we watch as she chokes. Her face turns a sickly green and her body falls limp, though the vines are still active.

The cannon doesn't go off for another few minutes and all I find myself doing, is stare at her body, which is now free of vines. Maya tugs on my jacket and urgently says, "Come on, Finn. We have to go. Someone's probably around here."

I hear a rustle behind us and instantaneously whip around to the direction we were running off to and right at that moment, the boy from Ten leaps out at us from the mass of ferns beside us. He waves a bludgeon, I think, around carelessly and lands straight onto the sword I had held up.

We stare at each other with wide eyes, light brown meeting sea green, as he coughs out blood, choking violently on it in the process. The look in his eyes haunts me. His dazed eyes seem to be empty voids of nothing. For a second, I flicker my eyes down to the sword I wield and notice that it's struck him right next to where his heart should be. Gulping, I yank my hand back and run backwards. I laugh hysterically for a few moments and I let out a shaky breath, gazing at the bloody sword in front of me.

_I need to get away from him. _

The sword clatters on the ground with a loud _clang _and I'm full on sprinting away. Maya is at the back of my mind, despite the fact that she's chasing after me with her sword and screaming my name, repetitively. Forget the uncomfortable feeling of the belt of knives rubbing against my torso and never mind the fact that I'm running into the middle of nowhere. I _run. _A scream emits somewhere around me and it takes me a few seconds to realise that I was the one who screamed.

_I'm out of my mind_.

I stop and gasp for air, back hunched over with my hands on my knees. "Finnick!" Maya exclaims, finally catching up with me. She's in a worst state than me, having to carry her spears and sword, along with her backpack.

"Sorry," I apologise. "I just had to get away…"

She nods and waves me off. "I know. Are you ok- RUN!"

This time, she's the one dragging me as she bolts down whatever path there is. The hissing of sounds almost makes me freeze in my tracks. _Snakes__._

_Mutt snakes _to make it even worse. I shuddered. I absolutely hated snakes. They had nearly caused Rhea's death when we were little and it took months for her to recover from one snake bite. She's deathly afraid of them now and I can't imagine how she must be feeling right now.

One, two, three, four, five… there's not just one snake that pursues us, there are six.

The sounds of their hissing roars in my ears, blocking out every other audible sound, and I so desperately want to cover my ears and cower in a corner somewhere, hoping to die. I close my eyes. I'm met with the brown eyes of the boy from Ten and he stares back at me, lifelessly, yet again. I run forward blindly, feeling the adrenaline rush through my veins and I take large running steps.

Then, I trip.

_Where's the ground? _I question myself but then I feel the sudden rush of air whipping my jacket. _I'm falling. _

The wind roars in my ears and I feel like I'm becoming deaf. My right hand holds Maya's, I realise. I flail my left arm around wildly, grasping at nothing but air and I release a loud shout. The wind rips through my vocals and my throat instantly hurts from the effort of screaming. A young, feminine body collides into mine and we tumble through air.

It feels like eons that we fall and we finally land with a sickening _thump. _I feel my head smack painfully onto the ground beneath me - sandstone or a rock of some sort. I keep my eyes closed. They feel impossibly heavy right now and even when closed, my head throbs. There's a heavy weight on top of me that I recognise to be Maya's body.

_Thank God she wasn't underneath me. _

I attempt lifting my head up but end up smacking it against the rock again and I weakly let out a low, guttural moan. I see stars dance across my closed eyelids and my entire body feels numb now.

"Finn?"

_Brown eyes. _Even now, they haunt me.

They stare back, lifelessly, at me for the third time and I want to cringe and scream but I can't find the effort or energy to.

"… nick?"

_Black. _

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**A/N: This is the shortest chapter in this story yet but I feel like this is the best spot to stop. Hope you like it! :) **


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to MsKMT86 for reviewing! :) **

**I just started school yesterday, meaning my updates won't be regular like they have been for the past few days. They'll be sporadic but I'm hoping to update at least once a week. I have a four-day school camp next week so I'm not really sure when I'll be able to update the next few chapters. Yes, the updates won't be as often, but I'll try to make them longer :)**

**Also, I'm going to put the entire A/N here since it would ruin the mood at the end of the chapter ;) I'm not particularly proud of this chapter because I seem to never right emotional stuff properly, but I hope it's go! Don't forget to read and review :) **

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_**Oh it seems to me  
That sorry seems to be the hardest word**_

_**- Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word, Elton John**_

* * *

**VII. Too Late **

I wake up to the scorching sun and I feel like my entire is on fire. Whether it's from the heat or the numbness, I don't know. I can sense a dull throb in my head and I see a girl's face hovering over mine. She has a genuine smile plastered on her face. Her dirty blonde hair frames her face perfectly, parting in the middle, making it seem like a curtain. Her vivid green eyes shine and I think I see a halo too.

Angel, I decide to call her.

I stare at Angel and she stares right back at me, intensely. She says something but I can't hear her. I attempt to read her lips but I fail miserably.

"Am I in heaven?" I manage to utter out, stupidly.

Angel bursts out into a fit of laughter and I rub my eyes, drowsily. Taking a second look at her, I realise it's Maya and I feel my blood rushing up to my cheeks. I blush even more when I realise that this is most likely showing on all TVs in Panem. _Well, that was stupid. _

"Maybe you should pass out more often," Maya says with an amused smirk.

I give her a flat look and reply, "Ha ha. What happened?"

"You don't remember?" She shoots me a concerned look, her eyebrows furrowing together in the middle of her forehead and her lips in a slight pout.

I close my eyes for a moment, racking my brain for any memories that I might have. The boy with brown eyes appears. His eyes are wide and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's pretty much paralysed with fear.

I swallow and open my eyes again. "I killed him."

"Yeah… You weren't looking at where you were going while you were running and dragging me along. We ran off the cliff face and pretty much fell about twenty yards. Thank God, your bag had the sleeping bags and blankets. Otherwise, you would've broken your back. I landed on top of you so I was fine. I dragged you into this cave. It's hidden pretty well. "

"How long have I been out?" I question.

"Uh… four days."

"Four days?" I repeat, incredulously.

How much have I missed in four days? That means it's day eight of the Games now. With only six tributes left in the games since I passed out, surely someone would have found us already; and at least, made an attempt to steal our goods.

"You haven't missed much," Maya assures me. "No one's died."

She hands me a bottle of water and I take a large swig, hydrating myself, then start eating the dried beef that lays on my backpack. "That means more mutts will come."

Maya nods in agreement. I use this chance to look around. We are surrounded by parachutes that are undoubtedly from the sponsors. There are at least eight around us. "Why do we have so many?"

She hesitates before saying, "One was for you - pills to keep you asleep and to relieve the pain. I think it's called morphine. Two had water and food. Three were for me and the other four… Well, I think you should look for yourself."

I manage to stand up with surprisingly not much difficulty, and I stagger awkwardly to the four leftover parachutes. I'm met with a sight that causes me to drop my jaw and widen my eyes. Sleek, long and thin, with three prongs sticking out one end of it. I take it out of the parachutes and run my hand across the weapon, in awe. "Wow," I murmur.

"I know right?" Maya says with a small grin. "Must have cost a fortune… Guess we know who the favourite of the Games is."

She's teasing, I hope. I really don't know what to say back to that, in case she really is serious and jealous. I finally avert my gaze from my most prized weapon and take a good look at her. Her dirty blonde hair is now matted down, courtesy to the Games. Those light green eyes which were once alive and full of energy, are now almost cold and defeated. Maya has definitely lost some weight due to the current circumstances, but I'm certain I have as well.

It is only now that I notice the gash that is present on her thigh. I suppose it's almost healed, considering the amount of parachutes she's received is more than enough for her to treat the wound. I can't help but frown. "What happened to your leg?"

"The girl from Six came across us while I was dragging you here," she shrugs. "She's not that strong. It must've been adrenaline or something but that was the only thing she did before she ran off."

"Does it still hurt?"

I want to smack myself over and over. Of _course _she's not okay.

She shakes her head. "Nah, I can run fine with this Capitol medicine, even with this injury. We should probably go look for some more food. I think the sponsor food is spoilt now."

After hearing this, I set down my food and straighten out my clothes, strapping the belt of knives across my waist. I decide to leave the jacket on too, despite the reasonably warm weather - just in case. I sling the backpack over my left shoulder, wincing slightly at how sore my back is from being unconscious for days. I grip the trident in my right hand, waiting for Maya to prepare her weapons.

I notice she only has one spear strapped to her back now, along with her backpack, excluding the sword. Wordlessly, I hand over three of my throwing knives. Just in case.

We spend around two hours walking around the rainforest, with no sense of direction. Other than us, there are still Carter and Indiana from District One, the girl from Six and the boy from Nine. Unless Districts Six and Nine have allied some time in the arena, the deadly pair from One is our main concern right now. They are undoubtedly the most threatening tributes left. Maya and I may have received a higher score in total, but they have trained their entire lives. They are brutal and probably lack humanity.

I let out a frustrated groan and throw my largest dagger down onto the ground. "I give up," I declare. We have been chasing after the same rabbit for at least the past fifteen minutes, and we simply cannot seem catch it. It's too fast for my knives.

"Me too," Maya pants out. "Let's take a break."

And we do.

It's silent for a minute or do and I relish this moment. The sounds of nature, without any human making a sound. It's perfect.

That is, until the girl from District Six leaps out from what was in front of us before. She was supposed to be a _rock_.

_What the hell, _I think, before I realise that she must be brilliant at camouflage.

The unnamed girl waves a dagger around wildly. Her eyes look out of it, like she's snapped or she's crazy and I suppose I don't blame her. I think _I'm _crazy, though I wouldn't be too shocked if I found out. I react a moment too late when an ear-piercing shriek erupts from Maya as the girl from Six drives her dagger back into the recently healed wound on her thigh.

With blinded rage, I charge at her. I should be able to win a battle against her, whether it's ranged or hand-to-hand. I received a ten in training and she received a mere five, I recall. I _should _win and I have to, but I find it incredibly uncomfortable battling against a girl who blends in with her surroundings. It's hard to even _spot_ her.

I manage to strike at her with my trident a few times, only for my swipes to result as brief skims or smacks. She ends up sprinting away, most likely to treat the minimal wounds she has, and when I wait for her to disappear from sight, before I turn back to Maya.

She breathes rapidly and unevenly, clutching desperately at her wound to stop the blood from flowing out her wound. Her face is scrunched up with pain and she bites her bottom lip so hard, that it starts bleeding. "Maya!" I exclaim, kneeling down next to her. She gasps and moans out in pain.

A parachute lands beside us and I immediately rush to empty out its contents: bandages and disinfectant. I unscrew the disinfectant cap, hastily.

"No," Maya says, firmly.

"No?" I echo.

"No. Don't bother."

"Why not?!" I cry out.

"Because one of us will have to die," she replies, weakly.

I almost gag and wretch at the sight of her blood oozing out freely, and I insist on pouring disinfectant on, as well as bandaging her leg up but she bats my hands away.

"We promised to be there for each other until the end!" I shout. I don't know if it's frustration or anger that gets the better of me but I know in the back of my mind that I shouldn't be screaming so loud. It would give away our location and I have also never shouted at her.

"And what if it becomes just the two of us?" she shoots back at me. "I don't want to kill you and I'm sure you won't want to kill me either!"

She's right. One of us will have to die. It's inevitable. I have the urge to break down and sob my heart out but I resist it. "But…"

"But nothing," she states, flatly as she attempts to stare me down. With the way she pants and grits her teeth, I can't take her seriously.

"Let me help you," I say.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, an arrow flies past me, planting itself deep into Maya's shin. Before we can react, another shoots through the air, hitting the side of her stomach. _Oh, no. _She lets out another piercing scream as we see the girl from Six disappear yet again.

"You can't… You can't help me now," Maya gasps.

"Yes, I can," I insist.

I don't know if I'm lying to her or myself. Arrows when released by bowstrings, easily pierce almost anything. Since the front of the shin has next to no fat, I know it's probably punctured into her bone. She'll die either from intense pain or blood less. Either way, they're slow and torturing deaths. With my dagger, I slice the protruding arrow from her skin so only a portion of it is in her leg. I decide to leave the arrow in her abdomen alone. I'll most likely tear her apart if I do that.

Maya's entire body tremors and her usually tanned skin, is slowly becoming paler and paler. "It hurts," she whimpers. "It hurts so much."

"I know, sweetheart."

My hands shake as I pour a few drops of disinfectant over the wound on her thigh and she shudders. I wind the bandage around her thigh multiple times, making sure it's tight enough, but not so tight that it cuts off her blood circulation. I move down to her shin and I stare at the blood and arrow, without a clue on what to do.

"Just leave it."

Her voice is so weak, and it makes my heart ache. "The sponsors can help."

Maya shakes her head and says, "It won't work. To get it out, you need doctors and it's a metal arrowhead. I'm going to die."

_I'm going to die. _

_She's going to die. _

This time, I'm the one shaking my head frantically. "No! You can't leave me alone!"

"It _hurts_, Finn."

"So you're just going to give up? What about Annie?"

"I'm not giving up. I'm accepting my fate." I want to laugh because even now, she's just as sensible and wise as she usually is.

She takes holds of the dagger from the inside of her jacket and presses it into my hand. "Do it."

"NO!"

"_Please_. It hurts so much," she begs. Her cheeks are now stained with cheeks and I can feel my own waterworks threatening to spill out of my eyes.

"No, Maya." My voice cracks and I realise how hoarse my voice has gotten. "I can't do it."

"You can."

"I _can't._"

"Please."

She lays on the ground, limply like a rag doll. Her face is tinted slightly green and she looks like the child I grew up with. No, she still _is _a child. Her hands are clenched into weak fists and she grimaces as if any effort to talk is painful. Her breathing comes out more ragged by the second. As much as I hate to admit it, the only way to save her is to put her out of her misery.

I clutch at the dagger tightly; so tightly that my knuckles turn white. I stare down at Maya for a long moment.

"I love you," she says as her eyes flutter closed.

"I love you too."

_Boom. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to Jay's Song for reviewing!**

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**VIII. The Boy With The Nets & Tridents **

"I'm sorry, Annie."

My voice is hoarse from crying. I don't know how long it's been since the cannon has rung in my ears but it has felt like decades. Guilt and resentment pangs at my heart and I don't think I have ever produced so many tears at one time.

I gaze down at the deceased girl in front of me, her blue-green eyes wide open, void of emotion. Using my index and middle fingers, I gently close her eyelids. She looks like a kid who's fast asleep, with the exception of the lack of movement. She looks like the girl I met when I was six. I hold onto her hands and I feel like screaming when I finally realise how cold her body has become. Placing her hands over her chest, I kiss her on the forehead, and then the lips for a few seconds. It's District Four's way of acknowledging and respecting one's death.

Gathering my trident, knives and backpack, I walk backwards. I don't allow my sight to leave Maya until I trip over a tree root and after one last glance, I bolt off to the cave we had stayed in after our fall.

When I do arrive, it's past dusk. I create a similar cover as Maya and I had woven on the first day, covering up the entrance to my hiding place and I light a fire. The anthem sounds and I don't bother to look up. There has only been one cannon today, and it was Maya's. Thinking of her death makes me feel guiltier than I thought was even possible. _I murdered my own best friend_. What are Mother and Father thinking right now? Rhea… Poor Rhea. And _Annie_. She must be devastated, hurt and most likely _disgusted_ of my actions. I had failed to keep her promise.

I cry - no, I don't cry. I _sob_ my eyes out. I punch the walls of the cave several times out of anger and frustration. I'm mad at myself. I scream and I claw at my own hair, as if I'm trying to pull it out. I don't know how long I end up doing this for but by the time I am feel like I'll pass out, my knuckles are bleeding and I'm covered in scratches and bruises.

I end up crying myself to sleep. I know because when I wake up the next morning, my eyes are red and puffy, and it takes a great amount of effort to slightly open them. I ignore the stinging in my eyes and notice a parachute floating down. I quickly go and retrieve it. Inside there are alcoholic swabs, bandages and a bowl of sugar cubes. The ghost of a smile crawls onto my face as I pop one sugar cube into my mouth. "Thanks Mags," I mumble softly.

I spend the next hour or so, taking care of my bruises. I end up using small bandages for my knuckles and surprisingly, they don't hurt as much as I had predicted. I can move them around fine and I spend a while practicing to fight. I carve into different spots of the walls of my cave and throw knives at them, making sure I hit the target every single time, right in the centre. Then, I practise my stance and extension of the arm when wielding my trident. I stab at nothing but air and swipe, duck and roll around, improving my throws and close combat skills. I imagine that I stab at the girl from District Six and Carter from District One. I can't help feel a sense of bitterness, especially towards the girl.

Tugging at the flimsy piece of rope chained around my wrist, I realise that I honestly have nothing to do right now. I unfasten it and tie knots to take my mind off of Maya, and untie them. I continue the process over and over again, expertly. _Rope_.

Tying it back around my wrist, I run over the my backpack and notice that I still have the four lengths of rope. Tying and untying. I do that for several hours, I presume, until I finally come to my senses and decide to weave a net of my own. Maybe it was the shock of Maya's death that had caused my thinking to go a little fuzzy. Maybe I still am in shock, but different emotions have taken over.

Vengeance is what I feel I need now. The girl from Six will pay back for Maya's death.

Around noon, after a sufficient amount of mind-wandering and weaving, my net is finally complete and I sling it over my shoulder. I decide that I don't need my backpack anymore. The weather doesn't seem like it will change any time soon and I intend to get out of the arena today. If not, then tomorrow. But hopefully, sponsors will be able to help me if I last that long.

My knives are belted around my waist and I hook my bottle onto my waistband. I wield my trident and for the next few hours, I manage to set up seven traps around the arena, three around the Cornucopia. It would be of good use for the final bloodbath - or what others like to call, the _feast_.

The sound of a trap going off pulls me out of my thoughts and I hear the sounds of cursing from a male. I realise that it's the boy from Nine when I burst into the clearing. He hangs upside down with a string of rope around his ankle and torso, and he frantically hacks away at the ropes with one small dagger, to no avail. The unnamed boy lifts his head up when he hears me and his eyes are filled with dread and terror when they land on the trident. He screams out, begging to be let go but is cut off when I release my trident.

I hear the cracking of bones as they puncture his chest and the cannon booms almost instantaneously. I jerk my bloodstained weapon out of his flimsy body, ignoring the blood that pours out of the real holes I've created in his chest, and move on.

"District One and Six," I murmur quietly. "Here I come."

I wander around the arena, aimlessly. I don't bother hunting for food because Mags has sent me food every hour or so, with a few crackers and a bowl of soup. I imagine that Shelley would probably be looking out for me as well, and I can't help but feel grateful towards the both of them. My mind always wanders to Maya and her death. I can't ever stop thinking about it. Constantly, I'm trying to persuade myself that it was the girl from Six who had caused her death, but I end up telling myself that I was the one who ended her life. The girl was just the instigator. My bitterness towards the girl has only flourished as I grow impatient over the hours I walk around the arena.

"Attention, ladies and gentleman," Claudius Templesmith's voice resonates in the arena, "I am announcing the annual feast of this year's Hunger Games. It will be at the Cornucopia at dusk. Everything you need will be there. Good luck and may the odds _ever _be in your favour."

_Perfect_, I think to myself. Of course, there's nothing that we need except for going home.

* * *

It's dusk already.

I stay behind the mass of bushes that conceal anyone from the Cornucopia to see me and I wait. It's getting dark and soon it'll be hard to see. My heart pounds erratically in my chest. _This is it. _It's obvious that the four of us are waiting for someone to make the first move. I reckon either the girl from Six or Indiana will go first.

A parachute lands by my feet and I notice the night vision glasses that are supplied. _Thank God. _I slide them on and the Cornucopia is clearer than it was before and I notice the girl from Six on the other side of the clearing. As anticipated, she sprints towards the Cornucopia, towards the crate on the table that has recently been placed there and all hell breaks loose.

Mother always told me to think before I act but I push that piece of advice to the back of my mind and rush after her. She fidgets around with whatever's inside and dumps the entire crate onto the floor out of pent up frustration and turns to me. She knows she has to fight - it's the only way out for either of us. Her bow and quiver of arrows are gone, but she wields two daggers. As threatening as it may seem, I have at least six times the amount of knives she does, with the addition of my trident.

She's tall. Taller than me by two inches. Her eyes have a crazed look; it's almost like she's gone feral, a bit like a shark in the ocean. She bares her teeth at me and I almost shudder at the memory of Enobaria, the girl from District Two who had won three years ago, by ripping out her final opponent's jugular. _Please don't bite me, _I can't help but think.

"District Four," she spits out.

"District Six," I reply, plastering a smirk across my face.

We circle each other for a few moments, hesitant to make the first move. If she comes at me, I have an open shot and vice versa. We challenge each other, though we don't need words.

"So you killed your district partner, huh?" she says and shakes her head, in mock disappoint as her eyes gleam mischievously. "How disrespectful… I wonder how everyone back in Four think of you now."

Gritting my teeth, I manage to reply a "Shut up."

This time, she's the one smirking arrogantly. "Ohh, hit a nerve, have I?"

I lunge. I can't help it. A dagger in one hand and a trident in the other, I aim at her - anywhere, really, as long as it hurts and is enough to give her a moment's distraction. She's surprisingly strong for a tribute from District Six; I can give her that. I manage to slice at her collarbone, emitting a wince and hiss of pain from her but she stands her ground and after a millisecond, it's like nothing pained her. I release the knife and allow it to stay stuck in her collarbone, giving me an advantage to using my trident. I manoeuvre it around, effortlessly and it's evident that she's gotten outrageous from the injury and how I have a weapon I've already grown accustomed to before the Games.

"You're one lucky bastard," she snaps at me. "Using your looks and supposed charm to woo the Capitol. How _pathetic._"

I roll my eyes, unentertained. "How about less talk and more fight, sweetie?"

In an animalistic manner, she screams and lunges at me, waving her knifes around carelessly. I'm taken aback by her actions and I land on the ground with a _thud. _Pain shoots up my back and I groan. She has her knees on my elbows, with her feet pinning my wrists down to the ground, forcing my grip to loosen around my trident. The girl smiles maliciously at me and brings the larger of her knives up to my chest.

All of a sudden, it's broad daylight and I struggle to knock my night vision goggles off. The Gamemakers have made it day time again. I hear a pair of footsteps near us and noticing that the girl has also heard, I use this distraction to my advantage and as ridiculous as it is, I bring my head back and smash it against hers. It hurts but it's worth her stumbling off me and it gives me enough time to grab my trident. Mustering as much force as I can, I slam my fist into her stomach and within seconds, she's hunched over, wheezing and gasping for her. While she's holding onto her head and stomach with a grimace, I see Carter and Indiana gaining ground on us. Pulling a dagger out of my belt, I thrust it forward into the small of her back and watch her collapse onto the ground.

"Not bad, Pretty Boy."

I whip my head around to see the pair from District One. My blood runs cold when I realise I'm outnumbered. Indiana has her axes and Carter has his sword. I'm screwed. Running would only result in receiving an axe in my back, most likely splitting me in half horizontally, so I decide to stay and fight.

Carter eyes my trident and whistles, "So _that's _where all the sponsor money went to. You know, I was wondering why _nobody _else seemed to have any kinds of sponsor gift and then it finally dawned on me. _You _and your goddamned district partner."

I stand up straight, though I'm still shorter than him by a good three or so inches and cock my head to the side, grinning. "You got a problem with that?"

His eyes gleam oddly and it's fairly obvious that he's bloodthirsty. "Not anymore."

With that being said, he charges at me with his sword raised, while Indiana stays on the sidelines. _Unusual. _I sidestep a millisecond two late and I'm rewarded with a graze on the left side of my torso. Bringing my trident up in a defensive stance, I'm forced to reel backwards as our weapons clang against each other. He snarls at me and now Indiana decides to join in.

With every ounce of strength I have, I push my trident against Carter's sword, hard enough to cause both him and Indiana to falter, giving me the chance to run. While they stagger to their feet and regain their balance, I bolt away from the Cornucopia and to my traps. I burst into the familiar clearing and press myself against the thick trunk of the largest tree, trying to keep my breathing under control.

_Deep breaths, Finnick. _

The rustling of footsteps against the forest floor causes me to instinctively freeze in my spot and hold my breath.

"Where is he?" Indiana demands.

"How the fuck would I know?" Carter growls, "He came this direction though."

With my left hand, I take out another dagger and whip out from behind the tree trunk, plunging it into his stomach. His sword clatters to the ground and he staggers back in shock. Carter's hand covers the wound I've made and blood is quickly leaking out from his stomach, coating his fingers. Indiana's scream of rage brings me to my senses and I barely have the time to defend myself.

I let out a cry of pain when the metal of her axe digs into my upper thigh. I kick at her with my other leg with an amount strength I had no idea I had, effectively flinging her across about ten yards. I hiss in pain when I attempt to stand back up and I need to limp on my right foot.

A large, masculine hand snakes around my ankle, yanking me down onto the ground. _Carter_. Of course he isn't dead. While Indiana recovers, I grip onto my trident and flip over one hundred and eighty degrees, extending it forward. The prongs of the trident land right on their marks - the two outer ones stick into his eyes and the middle prong stabs his nose. For a few seconds, he gurgles and splutters his blood onto himself weakly before the cannon sounds.

"Well, it's just you and me now, _Odair._"

My blood run colds when I realise that I'm completely vulnerable. She stands above me, wielding her pair of twin axes. _'I'm done for sure,'_ I think to myself. I kick her in the shin - it was a move Father had told me that could stop one from walking for a little while. Pulling my trident out of Carter's bloody face, I point it upwards towards the handles of her axes and capture them between the prongs. Twisting and tugging, I manage to muster enough strength to free her of her weapons along with my trident.

We roll on the ground, grappling at each other and clawing at each other's skin. Her nails dig into my cheekbones. They're long and sharp enough to cut through my skin and she presses her knee against the gash on my thigh. Being trained professionally ever since she was probably ten, she distinctly has an advantage on her for hand-to-hand combat, despite the fact she's shorter than me. All I have been taught is a few punches, which have only worked on Six's girl who was undoubtedly not as strong as Indiana.

With one hand digging into her shoulder's pressure point, I use my other hand to grab the roots of her hair and pull. She releases a shout and spits onto me, applying more pressure onto my thigh. I grunt and growl, writhing underneath her body.

Within a mere three seconds, she has me pinned down to the ground, immobilised. Indiana straddles my waist and with her hands on my wrist, she leans down to whisper in my ear, "We should give the audience a good show, shouldn't we?"

It's almost like a seductive purr - heck, it probably _would _be if it weren't for the circumstances but now, it was disgusting. She smiles down at me like an angel. _'An angel of death,' _I think to myself, bitterly.

Two can play this game.

I prop myself up onto my elbows and bring my face closer to hers. Being only fourteen, I have had next to no experience with girls in a romantic or intimate way, so I decided to go along with my instincts. "And how do you propose to do that?" I bite my bottom lip and raise an eyebrow, suggestively.

With a coy grin, Indiana brushes her lips, occasionally licking along the lobe of my ear, down my bruised cheek, along my jaw and down where my jugular is situated. I almost cringe at her ministrations but I allow her to do it anyway. If she thinks I'm submissive, let her think that. The seductive actress from District One, as Shelley had warned Maya and I. _God, I wonder what my family will be thinking._

Her blonde - almost white - hair covers her face creating what seems to be a mini cave around our faces. Her hand slides its way up beneath my shirt, snaking its way from my lower abdomen to my chest. I can't help but grimace in disgust. She's what - eighteen? Surely, she should know how ineffective something like this would be. _  
_

Out of my peripheral vision, I take note of my trident, which lays only one yard away with the fork-like prongs turned away from me. I formulate a plan in my head; it's dangerous but a plan, nonetheless and I can only prayed to whatever Gods that are out there, that the fates will go my way.

Ignoring the intensifying pain on my thigh, I flip us over so I'm the one on top. I can see it in her eyes; she's triumphant, thinking that I have fallen under her charm. I haven't had my first kiss yet, and I don't intend to offer it up to my enemy. I give her a wink and brush my own lips up and down my neck, imitating her earlier actions. Ignoring how disturbing my own ministrations are, I slither my hand up her shirt, groping at her stomach and chest. When I notice that her eyes have been closed for a while, I use my free hand to grip onto the end of my trident and lift my head up. Our foreheads are almost touching and we're breathing on each other's lips.

"It's a shame we're in the arena right now," I purr into her ear. "We would have been _great _friends, otherwise..."

Her eyes finally snap open with what I suppose to have a seductive gleam and she smiles, flirtatiously at me. I lean back so this time, I'm the one straddling her waist. She realises what I'm about to do a little too late and her protests die down when the deadly end of my trident crash into her ribs, piercing her heart.

_Boom. _

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present you the victor of the 65th Annual Hunger Games - Finnick Odair!"

* * *

**A/N: His games are finally over! The upcoming years won't be in as much detail until the 75th Games. I'm thinking when I'm around twelve chapters or so into this story, I'll start Gloss' story.**

**Please don't forget to read and review :) **


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you to MsMKT68 and Guest for reviewing! :) **

**I apologise for the lack of updates lately and this not-so-eventful chapter might not make up for it, but I hope it's okay. **

* * *

**IX. After **

I spend the next few hours drifting in and out of consciousness. Well… when I _am _conscious, I'm pretty sure that I'm only half awake. It's impossible tell when my body is constantly being prodded with the medical process I need to undergo. I've been injected with who knows how many liquids and I feel like my entire body is bloating. My eyelids droop and I've been told that I've been hooked on a small amount of morphine, so I won't feel the pain in my leg.

When I'm asleep, I can only see the faces of the boy with brown eyes, the girl from District Twelve who was strangled to death, and the pair from District One. I almost punch a male nurse. I pack a weak punch right now, being mostly immobilised and pinned onto the bed. Yet another liquid is injected into my system and I let out a weak groan in response, before my vision turns black.

I finally wake without the buzzing of machines and nurses around me and I almost scream in relief._ Almost_. I don't when I notice the old lady who sits next to me, watching me with a gummy smile.

"Mags," I manage to croak out. Stumbling off my bed and ignoring the slight pain in my leg, I hug her. I hug her like it's the last hug I'll ever receive and the world will end tomorrow. "Thank you."

"I told you that you could do it," she says, proudly, "And you did it." Her light green eyes stare right through my soul.

"_Maya_."

I end up sobbing in her arms as she runs her fingers through my hair and stays there, patiently. I can't be more grateful for her than I already am. "I know, honey," she replies, "But it's not your fault."

"Yes, it _is._"

"No, Finnick. Don't you ever think that. It was her choice," she scolds me. "Don't think for a second that it's your fault. As hard as it is to do so, she'd want you to move on. You didn't do it because you wanted to so there's nothing to feel guilty about."

I'm about to reply but someone clears their throat behind us. I turn around and see Shelley, who looks at me with a sad smile. "I really hate to interrupt but Finnick, your prep team is waiting for you. Your crowning's tonight."

Pulling away from Mags, I rub my eyes and nod. "Okay."

"Good job, Finnick."

The moment I step out into the hallway, I'm bombarded and escorted to another building by Cartia, Ellina and Aurora. They chirp, happily and gush over how well I did in the arena. I allow their words to sink in but my mind is some place else.

"You were absolutely _brilliant_, Finnick!"

"When you and Maya messed around by the river in only your underwear," one of them giggles, "that set the sponsor money soaring."

"Stunning as always, Finn."

"I bet your parents are proud of you."

Within a few hours, I'm dressed in an outfit that is almost identical to the one I wore for the interviews. The only difference is that the white transparent shirt is now a pale shade of green.

"You look gorgeous, Finnick," Tatiana smiles at me. "Make them proud and don't express your emotions too much. Nobody wants to see a Victor cry on stage."

I'm almost offended by this statement. She thinks I'm crazy, doesn't she? Maybe I am; maybe I'm just a Victor who has become a lunatic.

"You think I'll cry?" I ask. My voice cracks slightly.

She shakes her head, rapidly. "No, no, of course not. It's happened a few times before and the audience never like it - not in the Capitol anyway. You're strong," she says, unbuttoning the top two buttons of my shirt. "I know you can do this. Watch it but block it all out. You barely have to say anything tonight."

The next three hours are torturous. I'm forced to watch myself. The replay begins with the reapings, with District Four being shown in detail. I watch Maya volunteer for poor Rhea, and I watch myself walk up the stage after my name is called. Then, it's the Opening Ceremonies. The roars of the crowd, both on and off screen, erupt and almost deafen me. The smile I have plastered on my face when I'm on the chariot is so _genuine_. I wonder if I'll ever be able to smile genuinely again.

My training score of Ten pops up on the screen, along with my grinning face, and then it's the interviews - the interviews where Maya and I had won the entire crowd over. The bloodbath begins and I force a smirk upon my lips, as I watch myself take over the Cornucopia and as Maya shoves three tributes into the initial swamp. It fast forwards a bit, until we're against the two boys with the mace and sickle and more cheering roars in my ears as Maya and I make the final blows.

I hear a few giggles and chuckles when the scene of Maya and I in our undergarments appear on screen. And then, we're walking around. We're running for our lives, away from the mutt-like vines, and the girl from Twelve is suffocated. I watch myself murder the boy with the brown eyes and run off the cliff after being chased by snakes, cringing. Our fall seems to last barely a second, contrasting from the years it felt like to actually plunder down. I grimace as I watch Maya taking care of me. She saved me but I couldn't save her. _  
_

It seems like I never cease to disappoint myself.

When I finally wake up in the video, it is shown that the girl from Six had constantly been stalking us and I clench my fists by my sides. My nails dig into my palm, creating crescent indents into my skin, and I have to force myself to not remove my eyes from the big screen. Watching myself kill Maya… I never want to see it ever again. I watch myself train for a few hours and then make nets and traps, before the final bloodbath.

I feel no guilt or remorse when I see myself stabbing the girl from Six, though I know that she didn't deserve that. Killing Carter wasn't pleasant either. And then, it was just me and Indiana, who had the supposed gift of sexual appeal.

I notice that the two of us are almost like we're playing a game, as we both seduce each other in an attempt to kill the other. I must say it was interesting, yet also disturbing to watch such a scene. Within seconds, my trident is sticking out of her chest and I'm announced the Victor.

"Give it up for your victor, Finnick Odair!" Caesar screams into his microphone and I force myself to smile. Women scream and men cheer. It looks like they're trying to trample over each other. As the anthem plays, President Snow walks up to me and places the crown on my head. I've never noticed before, but I now see how his eyes are like those of a snake's. An _evil _snake. They're like pits of nothing but evil. When he breathes out, my eyes water as I'm overwhelmed by the stench of roses and blood. He gives me a mere nod and walks out.

When it's finally, I'm dragged to what seems to be a party for the Victors, by a mass of golden blonde hair. It's Cashmere who drags me along; she's the girl who won last year, right after her brother, Gloss. They're only seventeen, I think. She offers me a kind smile and explains, "After the interviews, there's usually a party for the mentors and the new Victor. Welcome to the family."

_Family._

I guess we're a family…

"Hey, Delgado!" shouts a man from District Two. Drakula Hook. "Where's your dear brother?"

"Got a meeting," she replies, shooting him a glare.

He snickers, as if he's amusing himself. "Being a Capitol whore again, Cashy?"

With another menacing glare, she digs her nails into my arm and storms off, dragging me along. "I'm sorry about that," she apologises, bitterly.

"It's fine."

Scanning across the other faces in the room, I recognise a few of the victors. There's Mags, Shelley and Cashmere, of course, as well as Lyme, Blight, Cecelia, Chaff who only has one hand and Haymitch who is unsurprisingly, a drunken mess. "Congratulations, kid," he slurs. "Have a nice life." With that, he downs another glass of alcohol and bursts into a random fit of laughter.

I don't remember much of what happens for the rest of the night. I only know that I downed a few shots of vodka and danced around like nothing else mattered. My head pounds when I wake up the next morning and I find myself throwing up in the bathroom.

_How pleasant_.

A tinkle of laughter erupts from the doorway and I realise that it's Cashmere.

"Is it _always _like this?" I ask, rubbing my temples.

She screams at me, "You'll get used to it eventually."

I emit a groan. "Stop shouting."

She laughs again and hands me two pills and a glass of water. "Take this," she says, quietly, "It'll help."

It takes a few minutes for the effects to kick in and I can successfully brush my teeth after this. "Where am I?" I question.

"District One level," she replies, looking a little amused. "Why else would I be here?"

I shrug. By the looks of things, Cashmere is nice; a little _too _nice for a Career. "You told Indiana to seduce me, didn't you?" I accuse, before I can even think.

_Goddamnit, I need think before I say or do._

She shakes her head. "No… She did that herself. I advised her not to do it and look where that ended up, huh?" She releases a bitter laugh. "I was told to do it last year but that backfired. I couldn't do it because I felt too guilty… I know what you're thinking, Finnick. A girl from District One who thought twice about killing someone? Unheard of, right?"

This time, I'm the one who shakes my head. "No, no… It's actually a bit nice, I guess, to have someone understand."

There's always Mags, but she's an old lady. I don't want to ever tire her speech out or anything. Cashmere is only two and a half years older, so she'd probably remember a lot more than Mags. It's not that I don't want Mags around - heck, I would love that - but she's already done so much for me.

Cashmere smiles at me, showing off her pearly white teeth. "You have Mags and Shelley; they're nice. If you're ever in the Capitol, you can always come to Gloss and I. We have to come every year so you won't miss us."

"Thanks," I say. I find it a little weird that she's giving me advice and comforting me but… I'll take it anyway.

She shoves my shoulder, not enough to hurt, and says, "Now get lost. You have an interview tonight."

I allow myself to go back to my cocky Capitol self and grin. "Don't miss me too much."

Once again, I'm scrubbed, waxed, rubbed and prodded at by my prep team. This time, I'm dressed in an ordinary, white V-neck shirt, with and sea green blazer that has been rolled up to my elbows, along with some black skinny jeans. Thank God, the Capitol _does _in fact, have normal clothes.

According to Mags, my so-called bonding with Cashmere has brought me a little out of my shell. Apparently, it's her specialty, but who am I to question it?

Throughout the entire interview, I flirt, wink and act charming. It isn't as hard anymore - I've grown used to it. Most of the questions are simple and easy to answer. What was running through the bloodbath… if you could call it a bloodbath, that is? What was it like to know that you've won?

"How do you… feel about Maya?" Caesar asks me, curiously. And to think that I was hoping to avoid this subject…

I swallow nervously and clasp my hands together. "Well… Of course, I love her. She meant the world to me and still does. I just hope she's in a better place now." I stop myself. I know that if I continue, I'll end up rambling and crying, and of course, that's an extremely petty sight for the world to see.

"Ah," he nods pitifully. "It's a shame. She loved you so much… You would have made such a fantastic couple, don't you think?"

I feel my eyes bulging at this. "What?!" I explode. "We-We're not… Maya and I- We're… I mean…"

Caesars laughs good-naturedly and says, "Didn't you notice that she was in love with you?"

I freeze in my spot and my jaw drops a little. "W-what?" I stutter. My eyes drift to where the Victors sit. Cashmere isn't there but her brother is. He looks at me with pity, evident in his eyes, as do Mags and Shelley.

"I'm sorry, Finnick," he apologises. "I thought you knew."

I shake my head, "I didn't…"

I assume that he notices my discomfort and he announces, "Well, that's all for today! Once again, give it up for Finnick Odair, Victor of the 65th Annual Hunger Games."

The crowd roars again but I'm numb. I barely notice that my own feet are carrying myself offstage and I almost collapse against a wall.

_How did I not know?_

* * *

**A/N: Bet you didn't see that coming, eh? ;) I hope this chapter was okay. Please review your thoughts! They really do encourage to write more :) **


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you to MsMKT68 and PrincessFabala for reviewing! It means a lot :) **

**From this chapter on until the rebellion, a lot of the plot line will be focused on Finnick's relationship with his sister, Rhea and Annie. Also, keep in mind that while Finnick may be 14, Annie is still 12. They won't be together for a while. **

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**X. Alone Together **

"It's not your fault."

"Yes, it _is_."

"Finnick," Mags starts off. "Did you tell Maya to fall in love with you."

I shake my head, uncertainly. _Where was this heading? _"No."

"Did you kill her because you wanted to?"

I shake my head once again.

"Then it's not your fault."

I don't bother saying anything back. There's no point since I can never win an argument against her; maybe it's because I'm only one fifth of her age, or maybe it's just because she's that stubborn. Either way, I love her like my own grandmother now.

The rest of the return trip back is silent. I throw a small ball at my ceiling and catch it, repeatedly. It's like knotting - it keeps my mind off anything and it distracts me. I can't knot anything anymore. The flimsy string of rope that Annie gave me is so tattered that it is barely secured around my wrist anymore.

A knock on the door removes me from my thoughts and Mags hobbles in. "We arrive in five minutes." Looking outside the window, I can see the ocean off in the distance. The thought of being back transports me into another state of overwhelming homesickness.

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. "What do I do?" I ask her, standing up from the bed.

"Smile and wave like nothing happened. Don't say anything bad," she warns.

"What about Annie?"

She smiles sadly, "I don't know her like you do. We'll have to see when we get there."

"But… I don't _know_ her." And I really don't. Sure, I know her full name and her favourite colour is green, and that she's a quiet girl who hangs out with my sister, but that's all. She blocks me out whenever I had tried to strike up a conversation with her.

I'm blinded with flashing lights and deafened by cheers as the train slows down at the stop in District Four. All I see is bright light and flashes of brightly coloured Capitol people outside, screaming my name at the top of their lungs.

Mags and Shelly each take hold of one of my hands. "Smile and ignore them."

When the door opens, it's overwhelming. Claustrophobia has never been an issue for me but right now, I'm being swarmed by dozens and dozens of unfamiliar men and women from the Capitol, who I have never seen before. The clicking of cameras is all I hear for a moment and I feel as if I'm being pushed through the crowd, rather than walking by myself.

I almost fall out of the crowd and as I just manage to regain my balance, I'm swept off my feet once again and I'm engulfed by a pair of long, feminine arms. "Finnick!"

"Mom!" I cry out, burying my head in the crook of her neck. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she croaks out. I can feel her tears against my own skin and she hiccups. Pulling back, Mother holds onto my cheeks and it's now that I realise how much she really missed me. A lot would be an understatement. "I am so proud of you, Finn," she says softly and kisses my forehead. Though she speaks so softly, I can hear her over the screeches that erupt from behind us.

"Good job, son." Father's hand clamps down on my shoulder and he nods at me, proudly.

"Thank you," I reply, nodding back stiffly. I almost let out a gasp in surprise as he lifts me off my feet. I feel like a rag doll in his arms and it's like he's crushing my bones with every squeeze.

"FINNICK!"

I'm let down and I run towards the girl who screamed. "Rhea!" I laugh and engulf her in my arms. She squeals, delightfully and hugs me back. "You came back!"

"I told you I would."

"You were amazing! I wanna be like you one day."

"No, Rhea," I scold. "You don't."

She pulls back and gazes at me, almost admiringly. "Why not?"

"Because I say so."

* * *

I refuse to live in the Victors' Village. It's not my home and I already have the luxury of the abundant amount of money I've been rewarded. Unfortunately, I don't have a choice. My parents are taking in Annie. Our old home is too small - five people would be a crowd.

Speaking of Annie, the only glimpse I had of her was when we locked eyes after I was reunited with Rhea, and she had run away in the opposite direction. I want to so badly go up to her and apologise but do I really know what to say to her?

I manage to persuade my parents to take the largest bedroom in the house and I take the second largest, with Rhea next door to me. We decide that Annie will sleep in the room opposite mine.

"Looks like we're neighbours," Shelley walks up the stairs, holding one of our boxes. "Mags is right opposite you and next to her is Joseph Aelous."

"Joseph?" I repeat.

"He won nine years ago - our most current victor, aside from you. It's been a while since District Four has had any Victors. He won when you were four? Five? You probably wouldn't remember."

"How did he win?"

"Sponsors, just like you. He was only a few months older than you when he won and he managed to win the crowd over. He was a Career too."

I nod. "Explains."

We both set out respective boxes down onto the hard floorboards. Shelley hands me a sheet of paper and an envelope. "These are for you. Give the envelope to Annie."

"What is it?" I ask.

"Letters to you two. Maya wrote them one night in the Capitol just in case she didn't come back. I'll see you later."

When the door closes behind her, I run my index finger along the edge of the letter that has been addressed to me. I hesitate before unfolding it, then think, _Screw it_. Getting it over with earlier would be better than leaving it until later.

_Dear Finn, _

_I'm assuming you're the Victor now, since you're reading this, or maybe you're Shelley because you're nosy. Well… Congratulations on being the victor. _

_I'm writing this letter to tell you a few things that I need you to know. First thing's first. Don't feel guilty. _Please_. I know you, Finn and I know that you'll be feeling guilty that I didn't make it out of the arena. What if I won and I was feeling guilty? Would you want me to feel like that?_

_I presume I'm dead by now because I saved you and for that, I don't regret it. I'm just happy that you're alive and at home safe. My plan was to get you out safe the entire time and I'm glad it worked. I know you promised Annie that you would try your hardest to get me out of the arena and I have no doubt that you did that, but I have accepted my death with open arms. I hope it was a quick death I had. __Don't forget our promise, Finn._

_Take care of Annie for me, please. It was part of our promise. I know it's a lot to ask for but… she has no one else for her, especially family. Take her into your Victor's house and I'll love you for forever and a day. Train her - Rhea, as well. You never know if they'll be reaped or not, and better safe than sorry, no? Teach them how to net, use spears, tridents, knives, and everything you know. I don't want you to waste money, paying for their training at the center. You'll be a mentor anyway, so you'll be a better teacher. Train them privately; I trust you with my whole life to do so. _

_Rhea's a sweet little girl, huh? Take care of your family for me, Finn. You know I love them like my own family. Be good. _

_One last thing, Finn… I love you. It's funny, huh? It's funny how our parents would always talk about the two of us being together, growing up and falling in love - and I did in fact, fall in love with you. I never expected it but… I can't control my emotions, I guess. I don't expect you to feel the same way about me. I just thought you had a right to know about this. _

_I want you to remember me, but to not wallow over me. I love you more than you will ever know. _

_Maya_

I love you too, Maya.

* * *

I cry myself to sleep that night. I toss and turn during my sleep. I dream of Maya and I - what we could have been if it weren't for the Games. We got married, had kids and died together. It was the perfect love story, no? Rhea grew up to be a beautiful woman, and married a charming guy, as did Annie. I made friends with a few guys from school. Life was generally… perfect; everything I could have dreamt of.

And then, _he _appears. The boy with the brown eyes stands before me with an accusing glare. "You killed me."

"I-I'm so sorry," I manage to stutter out. "I didn't mean to."

He's joined by Carter, Indiana, the boy from Three and the girl from Twelve who was suffocated. Even in my dream, she is sickly thin.

"Why are you guys here?" I whisper.

"Because you killed us," Indiana replies. Carter raises the bloodied sword he had wielded in the arena and steps forward. Then, he thrusts the blade out towards me.

I wake up, screaming, with tear tracks staining my cheeks. _It was just a dream, _I think to myself. I don't even know if it can be considered a dream. It was almost like a nightmare to me, even the first half of it. My heart rate accelerates when my door creaks open a little, and I swear, I almost have a panic attack.

"Who's there?" I question the darkness, frantically.

"It's me."

_Annie_.

"Oh…," I say. "What are you doing up?"

She twiddles with her thumbs and purses her lips. "You were screaming."

"I'm sorry I woke you up," I apologise, honestly.

"It's fine… Are you okay?"

"Yes."

A lapse of silence comes upon us. It seems as if every conversation we have is tense and awkward, though I don't think either of us can really help it.

"Do you hate me?" I ask her, ashamed with myself. Of _course _she hates me. Why wouldn't she? I murdered her older sister.

But she surprises me. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because what you did was the only way to stop her from feeling the pain. I just hate that _you_ came back, not her."

And those words stab me in the gut harder than I expect.

* * *

**A/N: Short? Yes. Proud of it? Meh. I don't particularly like this chapter but I really hope it's okay. Please review your thoughts! :) **


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you to Odestalovebaby, MsMKT68 and Joe for reviewing! It means a lot :) **

**Sorry for the delay - I've had a bit of writer's block. **

* * *

**XI. Little Girl**

"Come _on_!" I shout at the girls.

"We're trying, Finn!" Rhea screams back, panting wildly. "We're only human."

They're only twelve. I shouldn't be pushing them to run four miles up and down the coastline, continuously, but I am. I have the fact that they're only twelve and have their limits, but I push them anyway. Their hair is matted down to the foreheads and they are soaked to the skin, drenched in sweat, and they're exhausted. Annie even looks like she's about to have an asthma attack. What is _wrong _with me?

No, wait. I'm doing this for Maya.

I breathe out a frustrated sigh and say, "Okay, okay. Stop. That's enough training for today."

"Thank _God_," Rhea huffs out, collapsing onto the sand. "I don't think I can feel any of my bones anymore."

It's been two months since my victory and I have trained the girls every single day. I haven't taught them anything with weapons yet, though. I make sure their strength, speed and stamina grow first. They do push ups, sit ups and plank. They run, swim and climb. They do so until their muscles scream in protest, and I do these exercises with them to make them feel better, I guess. I do in fact, end up waking up with a sore body most times.

"Well, consider this as two lessons in one since we won't be doing anything tomorrow."

Tomorrow's her birthday. She'll be thirteen and not a little girl anymore. Actually, she'll always be a small girl to me; it's just that she'll grow up and become more independent.

"You are so lucky that I'm not as strong as you," she snarls, with a playful glint in her eyes.

I roll my eyes at her, only just noticing that Annie has deserted us, once again. "Where'd she go?"

Rhea shrugs. "Where she usually goes."

"Where's that?"

She raises an eyebrow at me, as if she's trying to say, _'Are you serious?'_.

"Over there." She lifts her hand up and points at a tiny silhouette, jumping over rocks and then entering a small cave. "She goes there everyday, ever since you were… reaped. Sometimes, she stays there for hours and doesn't come home until the next day. Haven't you noticed?"

I shake my head in guilt and confusion. _You're so stupid, Finnick. How did you not realise? _I smack myself in the head. "I'll go talk to her."

She looks at me in doubt. "Are you sure? It probably won't work…"

I run. I run towards the cave, despite my protesting muscles and I am brought back to when I was in the Games again. The natural wildlife surrounds me and the rush of the wind whips at my clothes. I clumsily trip over my own feet a few times and the newfound rush of adrenaline pumps through my veins, once again. I kick small pebbles off the small path, and they skid across the calm water beneath me, creating small ripples every now and then.

I arrive at the cave and I notice how similar it looks to the cave I had hid in during the Games with Maya. I think my heart skips a beat for a moment, before I venture on further, and step inside the cave. Contrary to what I had initially thought, the cave is bright. It isn't dark and wet, or intimidating in any way. It looks like a small hide-out, and I guess that _is _in fact, what it is.

"Annie?" I call out.

She sits there on the ground, cross-legged, staring out at the sea. Her hair is bedraggled and messed up from all the training she'd previously done. Her vivid green eyes are wide and teary, as they stay fixed on the water. "Come back… _please_."

"Annie," I repeat.

She lifts her head up and glances at me for a split second, before looking away. Her hair acts like a curtain and covers her face from me.

"Are you okay?"

Silence.

"Come on, talk to me."

Silence.

"Why are you ignoring me?" My voice cracks, like I'm going through puberty again. I don't expect her to reply to me, but I just hope that she will for once, talk to me. The last time she did was when she told me that she hated that fact that I came home. It hurt - a lot - but I had at least, expected for her to greet me every once in a while. But _no_, she didn't. The only times she would ever acknowledge me anymore was during training, and it would only be listening to me.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. "_Annie_, would you please say something? I know you hate that I came back but… I need to know you're okay."

I'm stuck in another silence again and I don't know what to do, as I watch her stare off into what seems to be her own faraway land.

My patience wears thin and I release a frustrated huff. "Whatever. It's Rhea's birthday tomorrow and you'd better be there to make her happy."

* * *

"I don't know what to do, Mags," I say, "She just won't say anything!"

"It's hard for her to forgive," Mags replies. "Just give her some time and she'll come round."

"And how long will that be?"

"Maybes days, months… Maybe even years."

"Well, gee, doesn't this make me feel good," I say, sarcastically.

"Finnick, dear, even if it does take a long time, she'll forgive you and she'll talk to you again," she advises. "She's only twelve. She's young and she lost her sister. What do you expect her to do?"

"I… I don't know."

It feels as if there's a huge weight on my chest and it _hurts_. Maybe not physically, but it definitely hurts emotionally. I just cannot help but wonder what the hell is wrong with me. I'm completely out of my mind, because every time my eyes find Annie, I find myself growing incredibly irritated at her. Despite the friendly affection I feel for her, I… _dislike _her at times - most of the time, actually.

"She's so… annoying," I manage to say and I groan at the thought of her.

I'm rewarded with a painful pinch to the ear and I yelp in pain. How does one old lady just do that? "Don't say that," Mags reprimands me. "That is so rude, especially for a twelve year old girl."

"But I can't help it," I whine. I feel like an immature child but screw that. I'll say whatever I want.

She pats my cheek, affectionately, and smiles a gummy smile at me. "I know. Go celebrate Rhea's birthday. You deserve some fun."

I nod and stand up, kissing her cheek. She returns back to her knitting on the front porch and I walk up with a smile. She and Rhea have grown quite fond of each other and I can't help but feel grateful for this. Even my mother hangs out with her sometimes, when she's lonely.

When I walk in and notice the birthday girl, I charge at her with an almost inhumane speed and lift her off her feet. "Happy birthday, Rhea!" I rub my knuckles against her scalp, affectionately, despite her laughing protests.

"You're growing old," I tease her.

"Says you," she shoots back. "You're older than me."

"Pshh, not by much. What are you doing today?"

She pulls back from me and says, "I don't know… Nothing big. We can stay home and play game by ourselves."

Surprised by her response, I frown. "Really? I thought you'd want to hang out with all your friends."

Hurt flickers across her eyes. "You-you don't want to stay with me?"

I shake my head, rapidly. "No, no, it's not that. I just don't see what's so good about spending the day with me. It's your birthday; you should have fun." I smile at her and kiss her forehead.

"Well, too bad," she says, stubbornly. "I wanna hang out with you."

For the next few hours, we pig out. We raid through our kitchen, and shovel junk food down our throats and we don't mind the fact that there's no cake this year. Mother and Father sit by us, looking after us and smiling along. It feels like nothing had happened over the past few months and I refuse to allow myself to think of Maya, just this once. I know for a fact, that she's worrying about Annie and upset that she still hasn't shown up yet, but she covers it up fairly well.

We reminisce over the old days where we would swim out at the beach, tell each other stories about school, and where we made up our own games. We replay them. We laugh and it is only now that I realise how much I've missed this… Being a part of a family.

At around four o'clock, Annie walks into the house in a timid manner. She cowers slightly, with her arms crossed across her chest. "Happy birthday, Rhea," she smiles at my sister and hugs her.

"Thanks."

I had doubted Annie a lot, but I guess she really did come and for that, I'm not as annoyed at her anymore… Maybe, just a little.

* * *

**A/N: I thought it'd be nice for Finnick and Rhea to have a nice brother-sister time even at such a young age :) I'll be fast forwarding the next chapter to the Victory Tour. ****Don't forget to read and review your thoughts!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to Odestalovebaby, AnnaMariaNordlade, X The mad girl back home X and the Guest for reviewing! :) **

**Annie is NOT in love with Finnick; not yet, anyway. She's only 12, so… I personally think 12 is a little too young for love. I mean, crushes are fine but "in love" seems a bit unusual for a 12 year old. **

* * *

**XII. **

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I mutter under my breath, as my fingers fumble over the knots I'm trying tie and untie. Unfortunately, my netting skills have gone down the drain ever since the Games five months ago, and this is the first time I've even attempted tying anything up.

"You alright there, son?" Father calls out from the upper deck.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

I can feel my eyebrows furrow in concentration, creasing in the middle of my forehead. One droplet of sweat drips down from the side of my head and my hands shake. Throwing the piece of rope down in utter frustration, I let out an irritated huff. I can still master the simple knots I have known since I was six years old, but it is just this _one _knot that I cannot seem to complete, and it gives me the urge to rip my own hair out.

"Just keep trying," Father had said to me. "You'll only learn if you teach yourself, the second time round."

And I tried. I have tried so hard, that the tips of my fingertips are now flaming red and I can feel the blisters starting to form.

Giving up, I lay back on the deck, supporting my body's weight by leaning back on my elbows and stared out at sea. It isn't often that I come out fishing with my father and his mates anymore. I spend most of my time at home, now, with Rhea, Mags and Dean, Amphitrite Lasonga's son. In addition to my parents, they are the only ones who celebrated my fifteenth birthday, two months ago. Amphitrite is yet another person who I've grown close to over the past few months. Living only two houses away, she raises her seventeen-year old son, single-handedly, and when Mags isn't available, she's always there. She had won the 36th Hunger Games as a Career. She's quite cool for a forty-seven year old women.

The water is rough and choppy today, but I don't mind it. I cherish the time I'm at sea and I feel at _home. _My arms feel as if they're about to fall off, after hauling large masses of fish up onto our boat.

Before I know it, we're near the docks already and for a moment, I see Carter staring back at me, sword in hand and grinning maliciously. After blinking for a few times, he disappears and I breathe out a sigh of relief. Even after the seemingly long period of five months, my hallucinations and nightmares haven't shown the slightest trace of disappearing. It really makes me question whether this will last forever, or if it's just a short-term after effect of the Games, that every Victor goes through. Either way, I hope that they go away, or I think I really _will _die from the traumatic horrors, during the night.

Father and I trade the seafood we've caught, and walk home together. The silence that falls upon us in unnerving, despite the fact that most of our conversations are light and humorous. "So, your Victory Tour's next week, huh?" he says.

"Yeah," I reply, but don't continue on, in fear of instigating another argument or silence.

The moment we step into our living room, it's almost as if we've triggered a bomb. Mother and Rhea rush around, while Annie sits on the couch, watching TV with a blank expression on her face. There still hasn't been any improvement with her, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

"Finnick!" Rhea shouts. "President Snow's here."

"President Snow?" I repeat, more in the form of a question, rather than a statement.

"He said he wants to talk to you."

What would Snow want to talk to me for? The only _word _he has even uttered to me was, "Congratulations," and that was for my victory. I shudder at the thought of being alone in a room with him.

"He's been waiting for twenty minutes, Finn," she whispers in a hushed tone. Rhea glances around the house, nervously, as if paranoid and she turns to leave after we reach my bedroom. "I'd better go."

Wiping my palms on the hem of my shirt, I wonder if I'm dressed alright. My clothes are stained with patches of oil and sweat and I can only imagine that my hair's an unruly mess, at the moment.

I'm met with the sight of an old, _evil_ man, stirring a cup of tea, nonchalantly. His green eyes flicker up and I'm once again, reminded of the snakes from the arena. "Well, hello, Mr. Odair," he greets, with a curt nod and smile.

"To what do I owe this greatest pleasure to?"

He waves me off. "No need to be so formal Mr. Odair. Sit." And I do sit. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Almost gagging at the horrific stench of blood and roses he emits from his mouth, I tap my fingers on the arm rests of my chair, anxiously. "No, sir. It's fine. You can just call me Finnick," I reply, offering a weak and incredibly fake smile.

"Finnick… how have you been? How have your winnings been treating you? I assume your family has been well." President Snow seems genuinely curious, as he takes a sip of tea and leans forward, clasping his fingers together beneath his chin.

"I've been okay… We've been okay."

"Good, good. I've heard that you've become friends with Amphitrite Lasonga's son, Dean, is it?"

"Yeah, he's a cool guy."

"And the Delgado siblings?"

"Delgado siblings?" I echo, dubiously.

"Cashmere and Gloss. Don't you know?" I have the urge to suddenly slam my face against the desk. _I really am stupid, aren't I? _

"Oh, yes. I haven't talked to Gloss, but I have with Cashmere. How do you know?"

"I'll have you know that I am aware of everything that goes on with my Victors… And I presume that you're aware of your Victory Tour next week?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world," I lie smoothly, right through my teeth.

"Now… Mr. Odair, I have a… _proposal_ for you."

I already hate this so-called proposal. Maybe it's the way he talks, or maybe it's the fact that I simply despise him without so much of a word being conversed, but I know for a fact, that I will _hate _what he's about to say.

"Proposal? Of what kind?"

"Ah, well, Finnick. You see," he starts off, as if he's prepared this speech for weeks prior to this current meeting. "You are _extremely _well liked by the women of the Capitol; even several men have been quite… _affected _ever since your presence in the Capitol. Do you know how much people are willing to pay for you?"

My heart beats more erratically and the sound of my heart constantly pounds in my ears. What _exactly _is President Snow trying to tell me? My brain fogs up and I find it hard to concentrate.

"I don't mean to sound stupid, but…" I start off, though I know exactly how stupid I am. "What do you mean by how much people are willing to _pay _for me?"

He chuckles - it reminds me of Satan. "Fifteen; you're so innocent. Many women have told me about their… _fantasies _in bed, you could say. And of course, as their President, I must fulfil and promise them what they want."

I sit there, clenching and unclenching my fists around the armrests of my chair. My teeth grit together and I feel as if I might explode from the overwhelming number of emotions rushing through my veins. After my experience in the Capitol, I have come to realise how much the Capitolians love me - though I really hate to sound so egotistical and cocky - and it's ridiculous, in my opinion.

"WHAT?!" I scream out. I stand up abruptly, out of anger, and ignore the screech caused by the chair's legs against the ground. "Are you out of your mind?! I'm a fifteen year old teenage boy, not some goddamned prostitute you decide to sell for the pleasure of your citizens!"

"Oh no, Mr. Odair. Not now. When you're sixteen, meaning next year, you'll be of age, and only then will you fulfil their fantasies - if you agree, that is. As of right now, all you need to do is impress them. In addition, you will _also _need to mentor your tributes every year."

"No," I state, firmly. "I'll do anything _but _sleep with women who _purchase _me. I honestly don't care if I mentor or not, as long as I don't get _raped_!"

"Mr. Odair, by denying such an offer, you will be paying a price. Are you aware of that?"

"No," I reply. "But I'll be willing to pay any price. I plan on maintaining what little dignity I have in District Four."

"Very well, then, Mr. Odair. You are dismissed."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter's the victory tour! :) Review if you want more of Cashmere and Gloss ;) **


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you to Odestalovebaby, Joe and MsMKT68 for reviewing! :) **

* * *

"Whatever you do, do not say anything that isn't on the cards. I repeat, _do not_ say anything that hasn't been written on the cards."

I nod in only the slightest bit of irritation. "Yes, Mags, you've told me that about nine times in the past ten minutes already."

"Sorry, boy. Some people don't do as they say and it's seen badly," she replies. "This is what's good for you."

"Stay in character, is what she's trying to say," Shelley interrupts. "No offence, but the Capitol doesn't want to see a naive boy who was scared of killing someone. Act like you did during your interviews - charming, suave and constantly smiling. If you do anything in the slightest way to protest, they'll kill your family. Got it?"

I nod again, but much more frantically. "What's it like in District Twelve?" I ask, after a few moments of silence (with the exception of the train itself, of course).

Almost immediately, Mags pops up a rather large sugar cube inside her mouth, as if that's her way of avoiding the question - or at least, to allow Shelley to answer for her. The latter grimaces, as if the topic physically pains her. She hesitates. "It's… _different_. A complete contrast to Capitol, you could say."

I open my mouth to reply but not before she continues on. "You'll have to see for yourself. I can't explain it."

By the time we arrive to District Twelve, my palms are clammy and sweat drips down the side of my temple. I have the vast majority of the speech memorised, from reading it so many times out of boredom and preparation. The first thing I notice when I step off the train is how cold it is, and cold wouldn't be enough of a word to describe the temperature. The cold reaches my bones and numbs my fingers and I find it to be slightly problematic to clench and unclench my fists without any difficulty.

The roads in District Twelve are… non-existent. All there is, is a thick layer of white… _stuff _that's quite bothersome to walk on.

"It's snow," Mags explains, whilst rubbing her palms together in hopes of warming them up. "It falls when it's too cold to rain so the water freezes."

"A lot of snow here is grey, though," Shelley continues. "It's really dirty."

Surrounding us, there are people dressed in rags and poor excuses for clothing. Many backs are hunched and grim expressions are plastered on everyone's face. Their features droop, and I suspect that a lot of adults look older than they really arm. Elbows, collarbones and knees protrude significantly, just like the girl who had been strangled in the arena.

"Don't they have food?" I ask, in a hushed whisper.

"Of course but not good quality. They're the poorest district; it can't be that surprising, can it?" Mags says.

Several walk by, eyeing us in disdain - well, Shelley and I in particular. They seem to smile at Mags pleasantly, though it's no surprise. She's the most welcoming person I know.

A man carrying a large, dark bottle staggers his way over. His greasy mop of blonde hair is in dire need of cutting or any sort of hairdressing and he breathes onto me, as he almost stumbles over his own feet in front of us. The pungent stench of alcohol overwhelms me and I'm the one staggering back, coughing at the smell. He laughs, hysterically, his eyes wide. His eyebags droop, making it seem like he hasn't even touched a bed in weeks, and also makes him look older than he should be.

I recognise him to be Haymitch Abernathy, the only living Victor from District Twelve. He won the 50th Hunger Games - or the 2nd Quarter Quell.

"Congratulations… on being the newest Victor," he cackles. "How lucky of you."

I watch him, disdainfully. "Uh… Thanks."

It's only about ten minutes or so, before I'm ordered to take my place on stage. My heart thumps in my chest, erratically and my lips are dry.

"Um…"

I can feel my mouth opening and closing several times, before a noise actually comes out. On one side of the platform stands a large family of about six children, who I recognise to be the female tribute's siblings. They stand huddled together in a group, with their parents holding each other. The oldest boy carries the youngest in his arms and eyes me in hatred. On the other side is the boy's family, which contains only his parents.

"It is an honour to be standing here in District Twelve, as the Victor of the 65th Hunger Games, as the most recent victor of the Annual Hunger Games. First of all, I would like to thank you for your… support."

The word barely rolls off my tongue. It feels as if I'm chewing on sand when I speak, so I don't use read off the cards I've been supplied with.

"I didn't know the tributes from this district, but I do offer my condolences. I apologise profusely, for the loss of your family, friends or relatives. I hope they are in a much better place now."

I continue on, even though I have no idea what I'm saying. I allow myself to vent in the form of a formal speech, but refrain myself from yelling profanities at the Capitol and going down on my knees, praying for the dead tributes' families forgiveness. I manage to force a smile or two onto my force throughout the speech, attempting to ignore Haymitch's intense stare.

"What are you looking at me for?" I demand, the moment I'm escorted offstage.

He waves his hand - the hand holding the liquor bottle - around, drunkenly. His eyes flitter around the area, and speaks softly into my ear. "Whatever you do, kid, don't say no. _Never refuse." _

What the hell?

Before I can ask, he's already stumbling his way halfway across the room, whooping joyously and taking a swig of his alcohol. No wonder District Twelve has no other victors.

* * *

It's silent on the train between the three of us. We've just had dinner with the Mayor's family and we're on our way to District Eleven. Shelley picks at her fingernails, her foot constantly tapping on the floor. Mags pops an unhealthy amount of sugar cubes into her mouth, avoiding conversation - well, lack of conversation.

"Haymitch said to never say no. What does that mean?"

They both freeze in their spot. Shelley's foot stops mid-tap, and the sounds of crunching sugar cubes also ceases. It's like I've triggered a bomb.

They don't reply.

Instead, Shelley pinches my ear, despite my shouts of protest and drags me down the corridor to my room, almost tossing me onto the bed with two fingers. "_Never _say that when someone could be listening," she barks into my ear.

"What? Why?"

"Because President Snow is _always _listening. If not, then someone of high reputation in the Capitol. _It's not safe_. Even in here, we have to keep quiet."

Mags hobbles in without difficulty and sits down beside me. "They'll use your negative attitude against you," she warns, quietly.

"Well, are you going to answer my question or not?" I whisper.

Shelley sighs, impatiently. "If you're caught do _anything _rebellious - which chances are, you'll definitely get caught - Snow will punish you. He won't do anything to _you_, per say, but the ones you love will be the recipients of the price you pay. His Victors are too valuable; he makes _money _from his Victors. You say no to a request? He'll play it off like it's fine, but he'll get you back. He'll make you _suffer_."

The words die in my throat and my lips become dry. Swallowing nervously, I tentatively question, "Did… Did you ever say no?"

"Yes," she replies, after a bit of hesitance, "My brother."

"I lost my husband and son to him," Mags states, grimly, then leans forward. "When he came over to your house last week, did he say anything?"

"Oh, _crap_." I only _just_ remember what had happened.

I rub my hands over my face and moan. "I said no. What am I going to do?"

"Nothing. You can't do anything."

* * *

When we arrive at District One, my heart pounds even harder than it usually did in the other Districts. I'm certain it's due to the fact that I murdered both of their tributes in the final bloodbath.

This time, I actually stuck to the original speech that Shelley and Andromeda had written out for me, previously. To say the citizens of District One hated me, would have been the hugest understatement in Panem's history.

The families of Indiana and Carter don't stop for a moment, to glare at me in utter hatred. A few girls sigh when I catch their eye and wink at them, and others are indifferent. It's quite the confusing district.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Finnick," is the first thing Cashmere says to me during the dinner. She places a comforting hand on my shoulder, though I don't know how exactly it's supposed to comfort me.

"Loss?" I echo.

"You… You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Your dad…"

"What? What happened to him?" I ask, urgently.

"He's dead."

And there it is. Blunt, straightforward and honest.

"What happened…"

"Boating accident," her brother interjects. "His boat got caught in a riptide - whatever that is - and apparently not even District Four citizens can handle that." He shoves a fork full of pork meat into his mouth, crunching loudly in an ignorant manner.

"Be nice," Cashmere scolds him before turning to me. "This is Gloss. You probably know though, he won the 63rd Games."

I nod. "Yeah, I know."

We end up bending our heads down, whispering to each other, so that no one else hears. "You're a prostitute, right?"

I almost slap myself in the forehead. Her eyes widen at how bluntly I've asked such a question and almost chokes on her food. "You _know_?"

"Oh, wait," she continues on. "Of _course_ you know."

Cashmere flicks her golden blonde her over her shoulders and her blue eyes flare in anger. She stabs at her food, harshly.

"I kind of figured it out."

"I didn't think he would actually ask for a bloody fourteen year-"

"Fifteen, now, actually."

"Old to shag the stupid women in the Capitol. It's bad enough he gets twenty year olds to do it."

"Ah… actually he asked for me to start when I was sixteen," I correct.

"Well, that makes it a little better… Kind of. Did you say yes?"

"No," I reply, glumly. "I do want my dignity, you know?"

"Yeah, well, your father paid the price for your dignity."

"…_ What?__" _

"You refuse, and he kills someone - family, friends, whatever - or if they're of age, they're reaped. It's rigged half the time, to spice things up."

When Shelley had told me that the ones I love would be the recipients for the price I pay, I never would have expected Snow to _kill off _my father.

Gloss grumbles in agreement besides her and stabs at his food again. I look at him, questioningly.

"He refused too," she elaborates. "Mother died, but we didn't know it was because of this. So Gloss refused _again_, and I was reaped the next year. Sucks, right?"

I push the plate of food away from me, not hungry anymore. "I hate this," I mutter under my breath.

"We all do. Just… when you're in the Capitol tomorrow, keep in mind that it's either the loss of your loved ones, or your preservation of dignity. I don't know about you, but I'd rather protect my family."

* * *

**A/N: Yay or nay? Review your thoughts :) **


	14. Chapter 14

**So, _apparently _(might not be correct; it's according to a few of my friends) in Mockingjay Part II, they're going to tweak the plot a little, and let Finnick live? What the hell?! I mean, I hate that Finnick died but having him live makes the plot a little… weird? What are your thoughts on it?**

**Anyways, thank you to MsMKT68, Cereal Killing 101, Joe and Just A Guest for reviewing! :) I know this isn't the worst Finnick story but I didn't expect anyone to think it was one of the best (according to you guys)! **

**Also, just to clarify: some people are confused with the type of love between Finnick and Maya? Maya was in love with him, and Finnick said, "I love you," but in a sisterly way. He's just a really sweet, kind boy who finds her pretty, and they've grown up together. **

* * *

**XIV. Satan Is President Snow**

"Finny, come here!"

"I love you, Finnick!"

"You're so _amazing _and brave!"

"We missed you!"

"Such a sweetheart."

The women of the Capitol gush over me as if I'm not present, and they quite literally, bow down to my feet. One expertly manicured hand latches around my wrist and I can't help but notice how _long _her nails were. The curves of them are perfect and there are no grooves to them. The anonymous lady digs her blood red nails into my skin, imprinting red half crescents.

"Finnick, dear," she coos. "How've you been?" She leans her body towards me, a little too close for my comfort and puts her unnaturally large cleavage and breasts on display. As horrendous as I find this situation, I cannot help but take a peek as a curious, growing teenager.

I send the lady a charming smile and rip my arm out of her grip. "I'm better now that you're here, but unfortunately, I have to go meet up with President Snow."

She pouts, exaggeratedly and rubs her cold, _orange_ hand up and down my bicep. She leans in and I tense up. Her warm breath fans across my cheek and I have to force myself to not shudder. "I'll be waiting for you."

"And I'll make sure I look for you."

_When I'm dead._

This time, I lean in and leave the ghost of a kiss on her cheek before walking off. I can hear the woman giggling and chirping in excitement, with her companions as they fret over such a one-sided, yet affectionate gesture. I manage to avoid other women by either walking right by them or by winking and saying, "I'll definitely be back for you soon."

_Goddamn_, I feel like such a whore and I haven't even _done_ anything yet.

A Peacekeeper stops me from entering Snow's office. "Who are you?"

"Finnick Odair," I smirk, smugly. "Most recent victor from District Four."

He scowls at me in disdain but allows me through, nonetheless… Not that I even waited for him. I simply storm off, suddenly feeling like an immature six-year-old and ram my shoulder into his as I walk by. I knock the majestic mahogany door twice, then twist the doorknob without waiting for a response.

"I'll do it."

"Ah, Mr. Odair, I've been expecting you. Take a seat."

"No, thank you," I reply.

He shrugs and takes a short sip from his drink, breathing out the familiar stench of blood and roses. "Fair enough. I give my condolences about your father… Such a tragedy." Snow shakes his head. "What a waste."

"You did that to him," I accused. "You _killed_ him."

The corner of his mouth twitches up. "And why do you say that Mr. Odair?"

"Because I said no!" I scream, on the verge of hysterics.

Even though Father and I had a broken patch in our relationship after my Victory, we were slowly patching it back up. Now I wouldn't be able to go back and do that.

"So naïve," he chuckles. "How in the world am I supposed to simply create a riptide where your father was? I simply made sure he receiving the consequences of your refusal."

_Gamemakers? _

"Domino Bastled is Head Gamemaker," Snow elaborates, as if he had heard my thoughts. "Quite worthy of one, at that."

"I'll do _anything," _I say. "Just don't do anything to them."

"I don't _need_ you to do anything until two years time. I'll let you start when you're nearly seventeen; does that sound better?" _No_. "All you need to do is to make the women smile and laugh today. Just make them happy and you're off the hook until the Sixty-Seventh Hunger Games. You will, however, have to come back next year as a mentor, and even then, you don't need to do anything but what you did today," he compromises.

I nod, almost frantically. "Okay, I've got it."

"Do we have an understanding, Mr. Odair?" He exhales again, and another wave of his mouth stink hits me.

"Yes, we do."

* * *

I always thought that Satan was the evilest devil. Mother and Father, both very religious, would recite passages of an ancient book from times before the Dark Days. It's called the Bible. I have almost the entire Old Testament etched into the back of my brain. I'm still learning the New Testament. Genesis 2:4, I remember, illustrates the story of Adam and Eve, and the insatiable devil, Satan.

But then, I realised, Satan_ is _President Snow.

President Snow is a manipulated demon from the Underworld, who shows no mercy. He has green eyes that constantly have a crazed, wild look in them, just like a serpent - Satan, more specifically. His lips twist up in a vile grin, slowly, in an almost unnatural manner, rather than how most people would smile. The strands of his thin white hair look crisp like snowflakes, as I've learnt from my time in District Twelve.

Sex before marriage is disapproved of, in our religion. We believe in God and he doesn't approve of it. He'll _hate_ me, and so will my family.

_Satan is President Snow_.

I almost groan in annoyance, when the tangerine-resembling lady from earlier pounces on my back, and my knees buckle at the cumbersome weight of the monstrosity above me. We land in a heap on the floor, a mess of entangled limbs and bling. "I missed you," she whispers in my ear, giggling hysterically.

"Not as much as I've missed you," I grin at her, coyly.

I wrap an arm around her thin waist and pull her up to her feet. Only now do I really _look at her_, properly. Her canary yellow hair puffs out dramatically, undoubtedly from large amounts of hair products. Her electric blue eyelashes must be two inches long and her lips are painted - or surgically altered - the same colour. She wears a thin camisole and a bright pink blazer over it, that's only buttoned up at the stomach. This over-emphasizes how voluptuous she already is - I mean, her too-big breasts look like they're about to spill out of her atrocious attire. The blazer is outlined with gold lining, that sparkles and reflects from the light.

_And I thought the Capitol were into fashion_.

Her waist is too thin to be natural, especially with her figure. Her yellow skirt matches the shade of her hair and bunches up at her thighs, though I'm pretty sure it's designed to be like that. This time, the clothing overemphasises her bulky backside that leads to thin legs on golden stilettos.

I realise how much I've criticised about her and the guilt of pointing out negative features about a lady I barely know hits me. But after trying to fish for a natural and genuine compliment, I realise the only thing _natural_ about her is her eyes. They're brown.

"You have beautiful eyes," I flirt with her. "Must be one in a million."

She giggles, again. "I wanted to keep one thing that I was born with. My eyes aren't beautiful but thank you."

An insecure, yet confident Capitol lady? _Kill me now. _

I spend the rest of the night fishing compliments for the women - not just the tangerine lady whose name I learnt was Karissa.

_Thank God I got rid of her_, I think to myself.

Bartenders refuse to serve me alcohol, despite my protest. I just want to forget the night - is it really that much to ask for? It's happened before, and I honestly wouldn't mind it again.

Maybe I'll turn into a disgusting, wretching alcoholic like Haymitch or Chaff.

But my family wouldn't approve of that either.

* * *

**A/N: Oh my gosh, I wrote the entire chapter in past tense at first, and then I realised this story is in present tense, so I had to literally go back and manually edit the entire chapter. **

**What would YOU like to see happen in this story soon? **

**If you answer, I might include what you want :) Please read and review! **


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